


building bridges

by kaneki_coffee



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: College, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Pining, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-24 12:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7508848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaneki_coffee/pseuds/kaneki_coffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Suga-chan! I knew you loved me,” Oikawa teased playfully.</p><p>Sugawara rolled his eyes and snorted. “I owe you a raincheck, remember? Might as well make it a date.”</p><p>Oikawa left the apartment with his head spinning, not sure what to make of that. <i>It’s just a friend date,</i> he assured himself, rolling his eyes at the naive excitement he had felt after hearing that. <i>Don’t try to read between the lines.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	building bridges

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mamimi (hyemiyah)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyemiyah/gifts).



> Ultimately, I wrote this as a feel-good fic! It was a lot of fun to work on and I hope it’s just as fun to read. This hols has been a wild, confusing ride but I can honestly say that I loved participating, especially with your prompts!!

“Oikawa, sit _still_ ,” Iwaizumi chided, placing a hand firmly on Oikawa’s vibrating knee. He pushed it to the floor and flashed him a warning look. “Stop bouncing around and study your book.”

“So bossy,” Oikawa teased lightly. “Some of us are smart already, Iwa-chan.” He twisted off the cap of his pen and nonchalantly flicked it in Iwaizumi’s general direction.

It was obviously a ploy to irritate Iwaizumi, and it was just as obvious that he refused to let it get to him. The pen top caught on the folds of his shirt and dropped into his criss-crossed lap. His eye twitched in restrained annoyance, but, ever the mature one, he calmly placed it back on the table. “We’re studying,” he reminded Oikawa once more. It wasn’t a suggestion.

Oikawa scrunched his nose, not bothering to hide his lack of interest in studying. He didn’t mind spending time with his best friends, but it wasn’t how he had planned to spend his rainy Saturday either. His nephew’s volleyball class had been cancelled, which had finally given him the free time to dig out old video clips of teams that he could show during the next session.

But then Iwaizumi had texted him. And when Oikawa had ignored the texts, Matsukawa had appeared on his doorstep to help pack his books. Oikawa had been firmly escorted into the pouring rain just to cross the street to Iwaizumi’s house for a mandatory group study session. His own mother had turned a deaf ear to his protests at the door and had happily given the traitor Matsukawa a plate of cookies for his troubles.

All attempts at sabotaging said plate of cookies had failed–they were now innocently resting beside Matsukawa’s knee, just out of reach from Oikawa. There was no righteousness in the world.

Whistling innocently, his hand snaked forward to once again flick the top of the pen, but Iwaizumi was ready this time. His hand slammed down and captured Oikawa’s wrist, locking his arm in place.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whined, wiggling his fingers desperately, his fingertips just brushing the tip of the cap.

“Stop,” Iwaizumi growled in response before releasing Oikawa’s wrist and moving the cap out of reach.

“You stop! You’re treating me like I’m two,” Oikawa huffed as he pulled back his arm and rubbed his wrist. A pout rested on his face. “I had _plans_ for the day, and you’ve ruined all of them.”

“Stop _acting_ like you’re two, then,” Iwaizumi retorted. “Your class was cancelled, and I know you’ve been avoiding calculus. It’s the perfect time to work.”

“I have not been avoiding anything.” Oikawa straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. The fact that Iwaizumi could even suggest such a thing was preposterous. He didn’t _avoid_ anything, just set them aside to finish…later.

“You whine about the class everyday, Oikawa.” Iwaizumi sighed. “You told me yourself that you have three assignments due next week. How many have you finished?”

“I was going to finish them Monday night,” Oikawa grumbled and uncrossed his arms, fingers playing with the corner of his notebook.

“Well, now you’re just going to finish them today.”

“But I still had plans!”

“Sitting in the dark by yourself does not count as plans,” Iwaizumi shot back.

“Iwa-chan, you make it sound creepy!”

“I’m just telling you how it is.”

Oikawa groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Mattsun,” he wailed, voice muffled, “stop pretending like you can’t hear us! Defend me! Iwa-chan is being so mean.”

Matsukawa didn’t even spare him a glance up from his book. “No thank you,” he said automatically. “There’s a reason I sat on this side of the table. Don’t be such a baby, Oikawa.”

Oikawa whipped his head up to glare across the table at Matsukawa. “I can’t believe my mother _likes_ you.”

“I’m a perfect angel,” Matsukawa assured him in a monotone voice, “and I pity the poor woman.”

Iwaizumi nodded in agreement as his pencil flew across the page in front of him. He was still studiously taking notes despite actually listening to Oikawa’s whining. “True,” he said in an offhand manner, taking a moment to regard the textbook beside him, “she’s had to deal with Oikawa all his life. That has to count for something.”

Oikawa stared blankly at the ceiling, shaking his head. “What did I do to deserve this?” he asked in disbelief.

Matsukawa pursed his lips in thought. “Is that permission to bring out my list of reasons, or…?”

“No!” Oikawa growled, flashing an icy glare his way. If looks could kill, Matsukawa would be buried six feet under.

“Thank god,” Matsukawa said with a visible sigh of relief. “I haven’t had the time to alphabetize it. Really, it’s embarrassing.”

“Iwa-chan, may I have permission to strangle Mattsun with your bedsheets?”

Iwaizumi contemplated it for half a second, pencil poised in the air above his notebook, before replying, “No, I just washed them.”

Oikawa clicked his tongue in annoyance. “What a pity.”

“Saved by the gods of laundry,” Matsukawa said with a smirk. “What a stroke of luck.”

“There’s a basket of dirty clothes by the door, though,” Iwaizumi continued. “You can find something from there _if_ you finish your math.”

“Deal,” Oikawa replied instantly, cracking his knuckles determinedly. He knew _exactly_ the pair of socks he was going to stuff in Matsukawa’s face.

Matsukawa pouted, his lower lip hanging dangerously low. “Iwaizumi is playing favorites again, that’s not fair.” He wagged his finger in the air.

“Hey,” Oikawa said sternly, “this isn’t favoritism. We’re just preparing you for the outside world. It’s a cruel place.” He reached underneath the table to snag his book bag and pull out his calculus textbook, setting it in front of him.

Matsukawa raised an eyebrow almost smugly. “Then you won’t mind if I just,” he plucked the last cookie from the plate beside him, delicately pinching it with two fingers, “eat this cookie?” He dangled it over his mouth.

“Mattsun, you’ve eaten them all so far. It doesn’t really make much of a difference.”

“Damn, you’re right,” Matsukawa frowned, taking a massive bite and continuing with his mouth full. “I’ll tell your mom that you don’t want to eat any more of her cookies, then. You can have baby food instead.” Crumbs fell from his mouth and into his lap, but it didn’t look as if he cared.

“Baby food, Mattsun? Really?” Oikawa replied, unimpressed.

“It’s loaded with nutrients and easy to digest. Honestly, I’m looking out for you. Cookies aren’t good for you, man.” He paused momentarily to drop the rest of the cookie into his mouth, his face now looking similar to a chipmunk with loaded cheeks. “Also because you’re a baby,” he tacked on, as if an afterthought.

“Wow. Thanks for including that last part, really. I don’t think I had picked up on that.”

“Some kinds actually taste decent,” Matsukawa confessed, swallowing heavily and licking a smear of chocolate off his thumb. “Avoid the brightly colored ones and you should be alright.”

Oikawa leaned forward, cupping his chin with his hands. “Oh? You know this from experience? Mattsun, don’t tell me _you’re_ a big baby.”

“The biggest.” Matsukawa grinned lazily. “But at least I don’t have a baby face like _you_.”

Oikawa glared across the table. He regretted the fact that Iwaizumi had revoked his pen cap, because he would give anything to flick it at Matsukawa right now, no matter how childish that was. “Why are you such a terrible friend?”

“I’m a growing boy,” he replied smugly as he flipped a page of his notebook.

Iwaizumi, meanwhile, looked ready to slam his head onto the table. “Yes,” he interrupted, directing a steely glare at Oikawa, “and _you_ are just a distraction.”

“Aw, Iwa-chan, you think I’m distracting?” Oikawa batted his eyelashes.

“Distractingly annoying,” Matsukawa laughed. “You haven’t done any work in the past ten minutes, and now you’ve dragged us down to your level.”

“That’s a hard feat to perform when you’re already beneath me.”

“I won’t deem that attempt at an insult with a reply,” Matsukawa sniffed in reply.

Iwaizumi covered a snort of laughter with a well-timed cough. “That’s never stopped you before, Matsukawa,” he remarked casually.

Matsukawa tilted his head forward and lowered his glasses down the bridge of his nose to stare Iwaizumi in the eyes. He almost looked like a librarian, albeit a very tall librarian who attended far too many gym sessions. “You’re right,” he said almost daintily, “Oikawa can suck my ass.”

“Mattsun!”

“But not right now,” he amended meekly under Iwaizumi’s glowering stare, “because we are studying quietly, like good children.”

Oikawa thrust an accusatory finger forward, aimed at the slumped figure beside Matsukawa. “Not all of us! Makki is sleeping! Why isn’t he getting in trouble?”

Matsukawa glanced beside him and then back at Oikawa blankly. “Makki isn’t sleeping,” he said, surprised.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa both glanced across the table to stare at the form of an obviously sleeping Hanamaki. It was hard to say what gave him away; it could’ve been his cheek pressed flat against his book, the pages creasing the side of his face and leaving behind a patchwork of faded red lines. Or maybe it was the drool. Or maybe the loud snores that shook his body every time he released a breath.

“Matsukawa.” They had all known each other long enough that it wasn’t even a question anymore. The tone in Iwaizumi’s voice was enough to demand an explanation.

“It’s for science class,” Matsukawa explained airily, flapping a hand in the air. “We’re testing to see if he can absorb information in a state of unconsciousness.”

Oikawa raised an eyebrow. “You two don’t share a class.”

Matsukawa stared down his nose at Oikawa, not blinking. It was uncomfortable being on the receiving end of his stare, but it was slightly less intimidating with Hanamaki smacking his lips sleepily behind him.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize the science police were in the building,” Matsukawa apologized sarcastically. “Not that it matters anymore. The poor boy, he probably only absorbed the stupidity you’ve been spouting non-stop since you blessed us with your presence.” He rested a comforting hand on Hanamaki’s shoulder and shook his head in sympathy.

It was at that moment that Hanamaki woke with a jerk, startling his friends. Oikawa fell backwards in surprise and tried to play it off by catching himself and casually twisting his back as if he was just stretching. Iwaizumi broke the led tip of his mechanical pencil with an audible snap, and Matsukawa’s hand leapt a foot into the air as if an electric force field had appeared around Hanamaki’s body.

“What’d I miss?” Hanamaki asked, words slurring together as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Iwaizumi said dryly, unamused. He clicked the top of his pencil a few times until he had a fresh piece of led.

Matsukawa coughed and leaned forward, grappling for a pen as he stared Hanamaki in the eyes in all seriousness. “What have we learned, Makki?” he asked, pressing his pen to his notebook, ready to take notes.

Hanamaki blinked sleepily and wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth as he tried to come up with something. “Oikawa,” he began, licking his lips in thought, “is an asshole.” He nodded sagely to himself, eyes fluttering to stay open. It looked as if he was about to fall asleep again. The pure fact that he hadn’t yet keeled over was impressive.

“Seriously?” Oikawa threw his hands into the air. “Consider your experiment a failure.”

“No, I think he’s on to something,” Matsukawa wondered aloud, pushing his glasses up his nose. He tapped his chin in thought. “It’s hidden under all your layers of idiocy and stubbornness, but I’ve noticed traces of it before. I’m afraid there’s no cure.”

“Why do I even try to speak? When will I learn my lesson?”

Hanamaki snickered. Picking on Oikawa was a sure-fire way to wake him up, which was an otherwise impossible feat. “It’s already a scientific fact that you can’t shut up, Oikawa, I don’t need any experiments to prove that.”

“You’re double-teaming me! That isn’t fair! My partner can’t talk big like the rest of us can, I deserve a handicap.”

Iwaizumi looked up from his notes to glare at Oikawa. Matsukawa and Hanamaki traded faces of pure impish glee, leaning back and waiting for the imminent smackdown.

“What was that, Oikawa?”

Oikawa hastily reconsidered his words. “Iwa-chan, you misunderstood. I meant–“

“He’s gonna get it,” Hanamaki stage-whispered in Matsukawa’s ear.

“Dibs on his room after the funeral,” Matsukawa whispered back.

“Dibs on his mom’s food.”

Iwaizumi ignored them. “No, Oikawa, go on. What did you mean?”

“I meant…that…we shouldn’t be talking at all. Not when we could be doing our work. Especially since we have such a busy schedule ahead of us.”

Hanamaki snorted into the crook of his arm. “Slick.”

“Oh?”

Oikawa nodded, gaining confidence in his excuse, like a snowball rolling down a hill and collecting more mass. “Yes! We have to consider our futures! Not just for the next week, or month, but our lives after high school! Going to college! Finding a career! A house, a family!” He pounded his fist onto the table for emphasis and nodded confidently.

Matsukawa snorted into his hand. “You, the self-proclaimed Great Oikawa Tooru, thinking of anything besides yourself? What a bizarre concept.”

“It wouldn’t hold up in court,” Hanamaki agreed.

Iwaizumi set down his pencil with a sigh, finally accepting the fact that schoolwork was impossible to focus on in this situation. It was amazing that he had even tried for so long, a testament to his stubborn determination. “Are you two going to be like this in college, too?” he asked. “I’m worried for your professors.”

Hanamaki clapped his hands gleefully. “You should worry more for the two others living with us. We’ve already been assigned housing; we’ll be in the same suite.”

“How’d you guys arrange that so fast?” Oikawa asked in surprise. “I still need to find a roommate for the apartment my sister found. It’s _so_ much harder than it sounds.”

“Well, our school isn’t in the middle of Tokyo either,” Matsukawa said dryly. “ _And_ ours has assigned housing."

Oikawa stuck his tongue out, hiding a pout. “It feels like you’re all leaving me,” he whined.

Iwaizumi punched his shoulder lightly. “Dumbass, you’re the one leaving us. You didn’t have to choose Rikadai.”

“I did,” Oikawa insisted. “Miyagi is nice, but none of the colleges here come close to offering the level of–“

“–we’ve heard this all before,” Hanamaki groaned, cutting him off. “You want to become a physicist and rule the galaxy with your team of mathletes. Only Tokyo will do,” he quoted mockingly. “We get it, you’re a nerd.”

“Makki,” Oikawa huffed, “that isn’t how it works at all. Mathematical physicists don’t rule galaxies and aren’t just _mathletes_. You have to think of the possibilities! There’s so much that’s still unknown in the world. With just a bit of research, we could uncover mankind’s deepest secrets!”

Matsukawa didn’t look as if he bought it. “You’re romanticizing math. You’re going to spend your entire college life crying over formulas and chugging coffee.”

“I’ll be a scientist!”

“You’ll be dead on your feet,” Hanamaki sang back.

Iwaizumi made a noise in the back of his throat, flashing Oikawa a worried glare. “You’re not allowed to overwork yourself, Oikawa. We’ll come kick your ass if you do.”

“Ha!” Oikawa snorted, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “As if you poor country boys could navigate the big city.”

Matsukawa smiled sweetly across the table. “It’ll be easy. We’ll just listen for the sound of a baby wailing, and follow that. It’s never failed us before.”

“I’m leaving in just a few short months and you want to sass me? That hurts.”

Iwaizumi nudged him with his shoulder. “You can’t get rid of us that easy.”

“Yeah,” Matsukawa said, “we’re like fleas. But better-looking.”

“And hungrier,” Hanamaki added wistfully, staring at the empty plate in front of Matsukawa that had once carried cookies. “Did you eat them all when I was asleep?”

Oikawa ignored Hanamaki. “Was that permission to call you pests, Mattsun?”

“Only if we get to continue bugging you.”

Oikawa immediately made a move as if to stand up. “Iwa-chan, I’ll do your laundry for a month if you let me use your bedsheets to strangle them both.”

“Still a no.”

“Tie them up?”

“You haven’t started on your math.”

“Iwa-chan! There are more important matters on hand than silly equations!”

Iwaizumi grinned. “Start working then, mathlete.”

Oikawa covered his face with his hands and groaned.

“Oh!” Matsukawa exclaimed, pausing from poking Hanamaki as an idea came to mind. He dug his phone out of his back pocket and switched it on as he spoke. “Speaking of important matters, I think Kindaichi mentioned there were some others going to Rikadai. Maybe they could be possible roommates?”

Iwaizumi looked confused for half a second. “People from our school?”

Matsukawa shook his head as he thumbed through his contacts. “I don’t think so. From the volleyball circuit.”

“The first years are very well-connected,” Hanamaki supplied. He looked almost proud. “Kunimi keeps tabs on most of the other teams, even those we don’t usually play against.” He leaned his head on Matsukawa’s shoulder, watching him type a message out.

“Kunimi has the time to keep track of that many people?” Oikawa shook his head in amazement. “That’s sort of scary.”

“Not as scary as you,” Hanamaki pointed out. “You stare at people and study them like they’re rats in a lab. It’s creepy.”

Oikawa’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “I do not!”

“Yeah, you do. You just don’t get caught,” Hanamaki corrected with a smug smile. “Deny it all you want, Oikawa, it’s still true. You’re only oblivious when you’ve got your head shoved too far up your own ass to see.”

“Makki!” Oikawa sounded scandalized.

“Alright, children, be quiet for a moment,” Matsukawa interrupted, holding up his hand. “Kunimi replied. There’s…at least two players going to your college.” He slid the phone across the table for Oikawa to view. “Too bad they’ll probably drop out when they hear that you’re going.”

Oikawa ignored his teasing and leaned over to read the screen, leaving room for a curious Iwaizumi to read as well.

 

_kindaichi says that the vice captain of karasuno (#2, setter) is going_

_i think his major is biochem_

_Kindaichi wasnt really sure cuz hinata told him, and he sounded confused._

_…_

_and then the other is captain of nekoma’s team, kuroo tetsurou_

_hinata says he looks like a cat_

_i can get his number but it’ll cost you_

 

“It’ll cost you?” Iwaizumi quoted. “What is he, an information broker?”

Matsukawa reached out to take his phone and shrugged. “We’ve raised him well.”

“They grow up so fast,” Hanamaki sniffed, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. “Our little proteges.”

Oikawa eyed them both. “Please, don’t influence them anymore. I don’t think the world could handle another pair of you guys running around.”

“No worries there,” Iwaizumi said with a roll of his eyes, “they’re one of a kind.”

“Iwaizumi, I’m swooning,” Hanamaki cooed. “I never knew you thought of me that way.”

“I don’t. Stop swooning.”

Oikawa flapped a hand in the air impatiently cutting them off. “Back to business, please. Mattsun, can you get that cat’s number? I need a roommate, the sooner the better.”

“You sure you want the Nekoma guy?” Matsukawa asked in surprise. “You’d probably know the guy from Karasuno, right? What was his name…Suguru?”

“Sugawara,” Iwaizumi supplied grudgingly. He shifted uncomfortably underneath the weight of their stares. “What? I’ve talked with their captain before.”

“How, even?” Hanamaki questioned.

“We run into each other at the local gym sometimes.”

“Of course you do, Iwaizumi,” Hanamaki spluttered, unable to stop laughing, “of course you do.”

“What? What’s so funny about that?”

“You guys,” Oikawa huffed impatiently. He flapped a hand in the air, drawing the attention back to himself. “You can pick on musclehead Iwa-chan _later_. Right now we’re paying attention to me.”

Matsukawa rolled his eyes. “So Sugawara’s a no-go?”

“Why’s that?” Iwaizumi asked. “You know him, right? You both taught Kageyama, and we’ve played against each other. I heard he’s really nice.”  
  
Hanamaki snapped his fingers as an idea sprang into his mind. “I remember him now! Mr. Refreshing, right?” He nudged Matsukawa in the side and shot Oikawa a sneaky look. “Wasn’t he the one you were complaining about a few months ago? What were you saying...you couldn’t get a read on him?”

“No,” Oikawa started, hiding the flare of red on his cheeks, but Hanamaki was already cackling.

“Don’t tell me you’re _scared_ of him.”

“Look, it doesn’t _matter_ to me,” Oikawa insisted, attempting to stay nonchalant. “It’s just less work for Kunimi, and we all know how much he appreciates that.”

“Okey-dokey, scaredy cat,” Matsukawa said, texting a reply to Kunimi. “That’ll be three bowls of ramen.”

It was Oikawa’s turn to yelp an outraged, “What?!”

“You have to pay Kunimi’s fee,” he explained patiently, as if talking to a child.

“That, I can understand. But how much can he eat?”

“Oh, no. Only one is for him. The other two are for us,” Matsukawa said, gesturing to Hanamaki and himself. “We get hungry, you know.” Hanamaki’s stomach growled as if to emphasize how hungry they were.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi frowned, crossing his arms.

Hanamaki put a hand up before he could continue, shaking his head mournfully. “You’re right, that was rude. Add another bowl for Iwaizumi.”

“I am not made of money!” Oikawa cried out. “How big do you think my wallet is?”

“Hopefully bigger than your head, or you’re going to be the definition of a broke college student,” Matsukawa tossed smugly.

“Betrayed by my own best friends,” Oikawa muttered under his breath, picking up his pen and beginning to write furiously. “You three don’t get fed until I have a roommate,” he declared. “And I’m going home as soon as I’m done with this math. To continue the _plans_ I had.”

The other three grinned. “Of course,” they chorused before returning to their own work, the sound of rain a gentle noise behind their friendly bickering.  


* * *

 

Oikawa cupped his chin in his hands and gazed to the front of the lecture hall with a sigh. It was the fourth week of college and he had finally settled into a simple routine.

His day always began at 7:45 in the morning on the dot. His phone would beep in his ear with a noisy alarm, which he would switch off with fumbling fingers and shove under his pillow. At 8:30, his real alarm would begin to blare, and he would drag himself out of bed to plod to the kitchen area and brew a pot of coffee. The coffee machine was one of the few appliances Kuroo had brought to their apartment; it was by far the _shittiest_ coffee machine Oikawa had ever seen in his life, but Kuroo always insisted it was reliable despite being as old as dirt.

Oikawa secretly harbored the opinion that it made horrible coffee, only consumable after pouring half a cup of their cheap creamer down his throat in hopes of drowning his tastebuds, but he couldn’t complain. Bad coffee was better than no coffee.

Depending on what day of the week it was, he would head outside to begin his walk to class. His sister had pulled some strings and had managed to find an apartment that was no more than ten minutes away from the college, located just on the outskirts of downtown. It was a small blessing to be able to wake up late and not worry about commuting, especially with his chemistry lecture starting so early.

“Why did we choose these seats again?” Oikawa asked, delicately covering a yawn with his hand.

Kuroo sat slumped in his seat beside Oikawa, the palms of his hands pressed into his eye sockets. “Not…awake.”

“Yes, Tetsu-chan, I know. You’re not a morning person, as I’m sure anyone with eyes can see. Remind me why you didn’t get _dressed_?”

Kuroo made a noise that sounded vaguely like a curse word thrown into a garbage disposal unit.

“Right. Have I ever told you how delightful you make our conversations? Absolutely riveting remarks on your part, really.”

Kuroo didn’t rise to the bait, only yawned and offered a tired hum of agreement.

Oikawa sighed, giving up on the sarcasm route; it was clearly ineffective in the morning. “Why didn’t we sit in the front?” he pressed again, letting a whine enter his tone.

A groan emitted from Kuroo, and he finally dragged himself upright in his seat. He wasn’t quite ready to partake in socializing, but was too tired of being pestered to care. “Because we’re nerds, but we aren’t _that_ nerdy,” he replied impatiently. It was the longest line of words he had strung together yet. “Or, that’s what you told me when we started.”

“Hmm,” Oikawa hummed, tapping his nails on the table. “Why didn’t you talk me out of that?”

“Does this mean you’re considering to accept your nerdy existence?”

Oikawa flapped a hand dismissively, eyes never leaving the front of the classroom. “Nerd is a relative term which has nothing to do with where we sit.”

Kuroo sat straighter, blinking the sleep from his eyes. There were only a few things able to wake Kuroo up in the morning, curiosity being one of them. It was equivalent to five cups of coffee and an energy drink. “Why do you care where we sit?” he inquired, following Oikawa’s gaze with visible interest. His eyes flicked from student to student as they stumbled into the lecture hall and took their seats. The pair had situated themselves in the middle of the room, against the far wall so they could see both the doors and the board that the professor would write notes on.

“No reason,” Oikawa deflected easily, turning his gaze to the laptop in front of him. He clicked the space key to get rid of his screensaver and pulled up a clean document, ready to take notes. “Hey, have you decided if you’re going to that party next week? There’s no way I’m going by myself, I need a wingman.”

Kuroo’s eyes locked onto the back of a light-haired student who was sitting in the front row, hunched over a notebook. It was impossible to see his face, but a surprised grin floated to Kuroo’s face as he connected the dots in his head.

“No,” Oikawa began firmly, noticing the look in his eyes and immediately cutting him off before he could begin. “Tetsu-chan, no.”

“Oikawa,” Kuroo sang. “You wouldn’t be interested in a certain _someone_ , would you?”

“I’m _not_ ,” Oikawa said, rolling his eyes. He shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Why are you like this? You embarrassed me in front of the cafe girl the other day too, and all I had said was she was cute.”

“Because love is the spice of life.” Kuroo’s voice had adopted a sickly sweet tone.

“You shouldn’t tease the person you live with,” Oikawa advised. “You may not like the consequences.”

Kuroo snorted behind his hand. “Shh, we’ll continue this conversation later, the professor is standing.”

“We’re not continuing anything,” Oikawa hissed back, but he too fell quiet as the professor began to speak.  

A minute later his phone vibrated in his pocket, a text. He edged it out and checked it under the table, careful not to get caught. He didn’t want to be rude to the professor, even if she was just giving out announcements about campus-wide events.

 

_you, me. le coin vert. early lunch, right after this lecture. we need to Talk™ ;)_

 

“That’s not a lunch,” Oikawa muttered under his breath. “That’s dessert.”

“Cake is a great meal for any college student,” Kuroo whispered back conspiratorially.

Oikawa glanced to his side, unamused. Kuroo winked.

It was going to be a long day.

Aside from the occasional sly keyboard click from Kuroo that caused a break in his outline, Oikawa was able to type fairly fast notes. When the professor called an end to the lecture, he had roughly two and a half pages written and saved, ready to be reviewed for studying later. It was a system he had created in high school, designed to free up his time for practice. With the amount of coursework he had in college, it served him well.

Kuroo packed his notebooks into his messenger bag and saluted as Oikawa closed his laptop. “I’ll meet you by the cafe,” he declared. He pushed his chair back and stretched, arching his back, before leaping to his feet.

“I don’t have my wallet,” Oikawa shot back, removing his glasses and tucking them into the front pocket of his shirt. It was a feeble attempt to get out of the lunch date, he knew, but he also figured that if he had to put up with Kuroo’s prying ways, Kuroo could at least pay.

“I’ll pay,” came the dismissive reply that Oikawa had expected, just as he thought.

He grinned, pleased with his small victory. “You’re so kind, Tetsu-chan,” he teased.

Kuroo stuck his tongue out as he slid past the row of empty chairs, heading towards the center of the room where the stairs were located. “I’m just going to run home and change,” he said, “Just give me thirty minutes.”

“Wait…You’re walking outside like _that?_ ”

Kuroo paused to look down at himself. His top half could’ve passed as just a baggy t-shirt, but his bottom half was obviously pajama pants, light blue and patterned with miniature sheep jumping over fluffy clouds. “Would you believe me if I told you it was designer?” he attempted.

“You’re a walking disaster,” Oikawa corrected. “Take all the time you need to change into something nicer, please. Don’t let any of our neighbors mistake you as me.”

“Too late, they already do. It’s probably the hair.” He waved a hand over his head in goodbye as he hopped down the shallow steps two at a time.

Oikawa wrestled his laptop into his own bag, muttering profanities under his breath. “It’s the hair, my _ass_ . We look _nothing_ alike.” He stood and pushed his chair in with a bump of his hip, slipping down the row until he reached the stairs.

The room had already mostly cleared out despite the large crowd that had filled it for the previous hour. Only a few stragglers wandered to the exit, with a handful of students hovering around the professor’s desk. The long tables spanning the length of the lecture hall were empty, their surfaces bare, the dark wood shining dully from the twinkling bright lights placed in the raised ceiling.

It was a flash of contrasting color beneath a front desk that caught Oikawa’s eyes. He paused and crouched to take a closer look.

It was a red notebook, the cover worn and the corners bent, obviously past the point of well-loved. Oikawa was surprised the pages inside hadn’t yet fallen out. He threw a glance over his shoulder, but nobody was nearby to claim it. Curious, he flipped through the notebook, finding an array of handwritten notes on…biology? There were a few sketched diagrams of what looked to be cells that Oikawa recognized.

Huffing, he pulled himself upright and attempted to flip it shut with a flick of his hand, but the cover was weak and didn’t follow the momentum. That might have been luck, however. He glimpsed a chance peek at a messy scrawl near the inside top corner. A closer inspection revealed what it was. A name.

_Sugawara Koushi._

What were the chances? Of course it belonged to the one person he couldn’t get out of his head. Not since his friends had oh so helpfully suggested him as a roommate, anyway. Not when Hanamaki, of all people, had almost guessed the truth.

Sugawara didn’t _scare_ him. That would be absurd, and childish, which he wasn’t. Sugawara did, however, set Oikawa’s heart beating as fast as a hummingbird, and his stomach writhing in a pit of acid. Just a glimpse of light hair on a crowded street drenched his palms in a mad sweat and his legs propelling him the opposite direction, searching for an escape route.

Oikawa wasn’t scared; he was stubborn. And had been fully ready to avoid confronting both the pale-haired setter and his confused feelings for eternity, if need be. He hadn’t even told his closest friends, had kept both his lips and his heart sealed. That was, until now.

 _Maybe,_ a small whisper called from the back of his mind, _maybe the notebook’s important._

He usually ignored such thoughts, snuffing the spark of a bad idea before the fire could spread, but...there _was_ a good chance Sugawara hadn’t realized his notes were missing.

Chewing his lip, he rocked back on his heels. He could always leave it where he had found it, in case Sugawara came back for it, but he didn’t feel right just leaving it there. Besides, Oikawa would feel guilty if he could’ve done something to help yet hadn’t. A glance at the clock assured him that not much time had passed since the lecture had let out—there’d be a chance of finding him. Plus, Oikawa didn’t have plans for half an hour. He had time to wander.

All in the name of being a good samaritan, of course.

Decision made, he closed the notebook and jumped to his feet, racing past the final group of lagging students to reach the elevator. The doors opened slowly and closed after him, leaving him in the small space alone with nothing but his spiraling thoughts to occupy his time. He silently rehearsed a suave greeting, mouthing the words and letting his eloquence and charm flow freely. When the elevator doors slid open, a musical chime announcing his arrival to the bottom floor, he had a grin on his face, suddenly full of confidence. What had he ever been worried about?

His intuition hadn’t failed him either– Sugawara was still in the building, walking directly beside the front desk with his phone to his ear and his free hand gesturing wildly. It was impossible to make out what he was saying, and he moved fast. He pushed open the large glass doors and skipped down the concrete steps, the wind tugging at his silvery hair as if welcoming him outside.

Oikawa shot forward, ignoring the strange looks the other students gave him, and made it to the doors just before they could swing fully close. Sugawara was just tucking his phone into his pocket and glancing around when Oikawa stepped outside and clicked the glass doors shut.

He took a deep breath and strode forward, ready to attract Sugawara’s attention, but his mind went blank the exact moment he opened his mouth and he choked on his own tongue trying to force it out.

“Suga-chan!” he called, voice cracking. His foot missed the first step and he tripped, shooting down the steps wildly in an attempt to remain upright. He somehow managed to remain on his feet despite the momentum carrying him forward, but it wasn’t his prettiest descent, nor the safest. “Yoo-hoo! Sugawara!”

Well. He had basically just thrown all suave greetings out the window. That had been a precious minute of time wasted in the elevator that he would never get back. He had left his confidence back at the top step, but it was too late to turn back now.

The full name caught Sugawara’s attention—not, Oikawa assured himself, his drop down the set of stairs— and he turned in surprise. “…Oikawa?” he asked incredulously, obviously startled. “What are you—that’s my notebook!” His eyes widened and his hands flew to his backpack, tearing it open and flipping through the contents before looking up at him again. His expression was what Oikawa considered would most likely fall under the category of _pleasantly surprised_. “Don’t tell me you’re in my class?”

Oikawa scoffed and walked forward, a grin sliding easily onto his face. “Don’t tell me you never noticed!” There. Who needed suave greetings when you had natural charm? He ignored the fact that his heart was beating rather rapidly in the hollow of his throat; it was best not to pay attention to such things.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s a big class though, give me some credit!” Sugawara ran a hand through his hair, sweeping it off his forehead and ruffling it as he flashed an apologetic smile.

“I’m surprised Tobio-chan didn’t tell you,” Oikawa replied smoothly, plucking nonexistent specks of lint from the sleeves of his cardigan. “Aren’t you his wonderful, esteemed senpai?”

“Kageyama?” Sugawara laughed. “I guess I’m not anymore, he didn’t even mention it. Wow. You probably could’ve been in all my classes for a _year_ and I wouldn’t have noticed it.” A look of alarm passed over his face. “Wait. You aren’t, are you? Have I been that dense?”

Oikawa stopped himself from snorting in amusement. “Pretty sure we just share that freshmen chem lab,” he assured.

Sugawara turned his body slightly to his left and began to walk, letting Oikawa fall into an easy pace beside him. It was a nice day, sunny without a cloud in the sky. The sidewalk wasn’t yet crowded, yet bicycles and manicured trees were neatly lining the edges of the walking path. Looking to the opposite side of the road, a quiet river could just be seen, partially blocked from view by an imposing line of larger green trees that ran alongside. If they listened closely, they could hear the whistle of a train as it rushed down the tracks that ran parallel to the river.

“I’m surprised to find you all the way out in Tokyo,” Sugawara said abruptly. “And to the university of science! I was so sure you’d continue with volleyball.”

 _Oh, thank god,_ Oikawa thought, _small talk._ He was good at that kind of stuff, it was almost second nature. He shrugged noncommittally and tossed his head, his hair floating to frame his face. “Science was always my first love. What about you? No sports scholarships?”

“I didn’t accept any, no. I love volleyball, but it was never something I was going to make a career out of.” He shrugged. “I’ll visit Karasuno to cheer on their matches and offer what advice I can give. The third years are going to have their hands full with the new first years.”

“Ah, same for Seijou. Yahaba’s the new captain and he’s got the first years _and_ Kyoutani to worry about.”

“You think captains have it rough?” Sugawara teased Oikawa, lightly punching him in the arm before skipping ahead a few paces. “It’s the vice-captains you should really worry for. Take it from me.”

“I think you’re a bit biased,” Oikawa sniffed rather pointedly. “I bet your captain feels otherwise.”

“I bet _your_ vice-captain agrees with me. Go ahead, ask him.”

Oikawa immediately became more aware of the phone in his pocket, and his brain was also kind enough to provide, in Iwaizumi’s voice, the beginnings of a speech he had heard far too many times before. “No need.” He grimaced. “Your point’s been made before.”

Sugawara grinned triumphantly and shook a fist victoriously in the air, level with his head. “Thought so! That’s a win to vice-captains everywhere.”

Oikawa picked up his pace to walk alongside him once more, raising an eyebrow in dry amusement. “What are you winning? You’re not on a team anymore, much less leading one.”

“That has little to do with the fact that I was _right_. Don’t be a sore loser, Oikawa,” he teased.

“I let you have that!” Oikawa protested. “It was out of pity.”

Sugawara grinned cheekily, a dimple showing. “Pity point or not, it’s still one more than you have.”

“When did this become a competition? I was just trying to be friendly and here I am, feeling attacked.”

“Sorry,” Sugawara said, in what was decidedly _not_ a sorry tone. It sounded like he was trying not to laugh. “It’s hard to lose the competitiveness from high school, I suppose.”

“That’s the worst excuse I think I’ve heard,” Oikawa said in disbelief, but a smile tugged at his lips. Talking to Sugawara was...easier than he had expected. His palms were still sweating, but at least it didn’t feel as if his heart was going to hammer it’s way out of his chest. It had subsided to a feeling of butterflies in his stomach, with jolts of electricity every time Sugawara laughed.

“Wrong again,” Sugawara clucked, coming to a halt. “I’m afraid I’ll have to cut this surprise meeting short. This is my stop.” He raised a hand above his head, pointing.

The sign on the building was small, but Oikawa knew automatically that it was the museum of science. It was painted white and looked rather dull compared to the sleek, modern glass and chrome design of the university buildings nearby. The second story’s walls were made of grey stone, and small thin windows littered the outer walls on both levels of the building. There were two entrances, one at ground level and a smaller one that led to a basement level. White pillars stood on either side of the main entrance, drawing the eye. Oikawa had explored it with Kuroo the first week they had arrived, but hadn’t been back since.

“I’m waiting for someone,” Sugawara elaborated. “My friend attends Hosei and she’s coming down to shop. You can come, if you’d like. You might remember her, the manager of my team, Kiyoko. I’m sure she won’t mind the company.”

Oikawa did, in fact, remember Kiyoko. Hers was a face not easily forgotten, even if only seen at the few matches they had both played. “Sorry,” he sighed, pulling a face. “It’s my turn to make a terrible excuse. I’m meeting someone for lunch in just a bit. But I’ll take a raincheck.”

Sugawara smiled, relieved. “Definitely. I’ll see you around?”

“In class, if we don’t run into each other sooner.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Sugawara said, shifting his backpack’s strap. “Bye, Oikawa. It was nice meeting you.”

“Bye, Suga-chan,” Oikawa replied, flashing a smile and walking in reverse for a few steps before spinning on his heel. His own stop, Le Coin Vert, a small french pastry shop, wasn’t that far from the museum; in fact, it was almost literally just up the street, giving him the perfect time to wipe his hands on his jeans and take a much needed deep breath once out of sight.

He felt light headed and couldn’t remember ever taking a breath during the entire exchange. Oikawa knew he had, of course, since he wasn’t a walking corpse. But did his breath stink? He hadn’t eaten breakfast, and coffee had such a strong stench. It probably smelled horrible, and his toothbrush was at his apartment, on the other side of the river, where it did him no good. Stupid toothbrush.

Realizing the decline of logic in his spiraling thoughts, he forced himself to stop walking and take calming breaths. _Maybe,_ he reasoned, _bringing Sugawara the notebook had been a bad idea._ He felt guilty for some reason, as if he had gotten away with something he shouldn’t have. But there was nothing wrong with making friends, and if he kept it strictly professional, maybe they’d grow closer. As friends.

It was only when Oikawa began walking again, hanging a quick left, that it dawned on him that he had never actually _given_ Sugawara the notebook. It swung in his hand innocently, almost mockingly. He covered a groan. Did he hold on to it or run back? Either outcome would lead to embarrassment, and he didn’t have Sugawara’s number to call and explain.

“Oikawa!” Kuroo cheered, interrupting his thoughts. He was sitting on a bench beneath the trees texting on his phone, but the moment he had seen Oikawa he had scrambled to his feet. “I got here before you? That’s a first. What held you up?”

“Nothing,” Oikawa responded hastily, shaking his head to clear his mind. He could worry about it later, when he was alone. “I see you decided to steal my clothes.” He stared pointedly at the fitted black tee Kuroo had taken.

Kuroo flapped the red plaid shirt that was tied around his waist. “I needed a black shirt to go with my outfit. And you never responded to my texts, so I had to choose myself.”

“I hope you realize that it was dirty,” Oikawa said pityingly.

Kuroo ducked his head and sniffed the shirt quickly. “Well, it’s not too bad. I’ve smelled worse. What’s that in your hand?”

“Nothing,” Oikawa said quickly, taking a step back and twisting his body to hide the notebook. “Just some notes from class.”

“You use your computer for notes. You hate using paper.”

“Why are you being so nosy?” Oikawa huffed.

In a split second, Kuroo shot forward and snatched the book from Oikawa’s hands. It ripped from his grasp easily. “Oho,” Kuroo clucked, glancing at the other side of the cover. “You couldn’t handle not talking to him, so you steal his notebook? I like the way you think.”

“That’s _not_ what happened,” Oikawa said, rolling his eyes and holding out an impatient hand. “Now give it back.”

“Not until you tell me how you got it~”

“Really? Don’t be such a child, Tetsu-chan.”

“Nope.”

Oikawa glared at Kuroo, stepping forward and tearing the book from his hands. “I know where you sleep,” he threatened as he tucked the notebook into his bag safely. He would just give it to Sugawara at the next lecture.

Kuroo ran a hand through his hair and smirked. “I can easily reverse that threat on you,” he pointed out. He began to walk across the street to the pastry shop, letting Oikawa trail beside him. “But don’t feel obligated to tell me what’s up just because I’m pushing. I’m just saying, I know you both. I’d be a decent middleman, no notebook stealing required.”

“There’s nothing to middleman for,” Oikawa said loudly over the ringing of a bell as they swung open the door to the shop. “And I didn’t steal it, I found it in class. He left it accidentally.”

“Huh.” Kuroo sounded doubtful.

Oikawa’s eye twitched in annoyance but he continued his explanation, talking over Kuroo. “So I ran out to find him, and we talked. That’s it.”

“And yet…you forgot to give it to him.”

Oikawa blushed faintly. “I’ll give it to him next time.”

Kuroo paused from the conversation to order two scones with cold drinks before turning back to Oikawa. “Is he going to sit up in our row with us, or are we moving our seats down to the front?” he teased as he pulled money from his wallet.

“Neither. I don’t know. Depends on him, I guess. I don’t think he knows you attend here either.”

“You didn’t tell him?” Kuroo looked offended.

“I had other things on my mind. Like the notebook.”

“That you didn’t return.”

“ _Must_ you keep bringing that up?”

Kuroo shrugged. “I’ll probably stop when I forget about it.”

“The other week you claimed you had a memory like an elephant,” Oikawa said suspiciously, eyeing Kuroo from the side. The worker behind the counter brought out a brown paper bag and two teas. The ice clinked quietly on the sides of the flimsy plastic cups. They accepted the food and drink with a word of thanks before stepping back outside.  

“Ah, did I?” Kuroo asked as he used his foot to close the door quietly. A smirk was on his face again as he took a long sip from his straw.

Oikawa glared at him and leaned forward to rip the paper bag from his grasp. Prize taken, he skipped down the steps of the cafe, putting a safe distance between them. His tea sloshed wildly inside the cup.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Kuroo warned, “one of those is mine.”

“Be nicer and maybe I’ll share,” Oikawa sniffed, digging out a scone and taking a bite. It was warm, with melted chocolate chunks scattered throughout the pastry.

“I’m very nice,” Kuroo protested, striding to catch up. “I bought you food!”

“Mmm, it’s chocolate. I prefer strawberry.”

Kuroo scoffed. “Blasphemy. Give me the scones, you don’t deserve them, chocolate hater.”

Ducking under Kuroo’s feeble attempt to smack his head, Oikawa stuck his tongue out and took another bite. “You can’t make me,” he declared, mouth full. He yelped when Kuroo’s foot connected to his backside. “Ow!”

“Careful, you almost dropped them then,” Kuroo cackled, hopping away. The leaves scattered across the small road crackled under his boots.

“Dumbass,” Oikawa muttered as he brought his straw to his lips. He took a few sips and silently held out the paper bag to Kuroo.

“ _Thank_ you,” Kuroo sighed, pulling out his scone and tossing the paper bag into an open trash can outside the nearest shop. The front was nearly hidden by an assortment of potted plants, the deep green leaves spilling from the windowsill to nearly touch the road.

“So,” Oikawa said, “have you given any thought to that party I mentioned earlier?”

“What? Oh, that. Not really.” Kuroo removed the lid from his drink, tipping it back and draining it in a few gulps. He tossed the cup, ice and all, into the trash before beginning to walk again. “I don’t even know when it is, or where.”

“That’s what you have me for, Tetsu-chan. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll even let you wear some of my clothes, in case you don’t have anything to wear.”

Kuroo licked chocolate off his thumb and took a bite of scone. “This shirt was a one time thing!” he protested, mouth full. “A matter of emergency!”

“Just don’t get any chocolate on my shirt, Tetsu-chan, and we’ll be fine.”

“What, you mean _this_ one?” Kuroo grinned, plucking the collar away from his neck. “You said it was already dirty, why do you care?” He chomped on his scone again, already halfway through. It looked like it was getting harder to swallow with each bite.

Oikawa eyed him murderously. “I will cut off every sleeve of every flannel you own.”

Kuroo winced and meekly let the shirt settle back to his skin. “Touchy.”

“Damn right I am. My heart is feeling bruised and battered and don’t need this abuse.”

“Can I at least have some of your tea? I gotta wash this down.”

Oikawa turned away and took a long, indulgent slurp. “Should’ve thought of that before.” He waltzed farther ahead cockily.

“What have I ever done to deserve this?” Kuroo called.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Oikawa sighed, turning to face him. “You come with me to the party, be my wingman, and I’ll let you have the rest of my drink right now.” He shook his cup, letting the ice rattle inside.

“I’m the one who bought that in the first place.”

“Party.”

“ _Fine._  On one condition.”

Oikawa squinted at Kuroo suspiciously. “Fine. Name it.”

“I set you up with Suga.”

The reply was immediate. “Fuck no.” He didn’t need help, especially not Kuroo’s. Especially since there was nothing to set up. _Friends,_ he reminded his racing heart, _we’re going to be friends. Take it slow._

“You like him!” Kuroo protested. “You’re in college, live a little!”

“I ‘live’ the perfect amount, thank you very much. Say bye-bye to the drink now.” He brought the straw to his mouth and glared, ready to slurp.

Kuroo threw up his hands. “Fine, fine! Changing the condition! All you have to do is ask him out.”

“No!”

“It’s fine if he says no. Just make the first move, that’s all I ask.”

Oikawa weighed his options. It didn’t sound _that_ bad a deal. “Fine. But if he comes, you aren’t allowed to leave us alone.” He graciously held out his tea.

Kuroo strode forward, hand on his heart and nodding seriously. “Deal. I’m a third-wheel wingman. Just call me the tricycle pilot.” He popped off the lid from the cup and drank the remaining tea between bites of his pastry.

“Are you satisfied?” Oikawa asked pleasantly.

Kuroo burped. “You know, you never denied it when I said you liked him.”

Oikawa let out a long-suffering groan. It was going to be a long day.  
 

* * *

  
Oikawa was at home trying not to fall asleep on top of his desk when his phone buzzed insistently. The loud noise of the vibrations across the wooden surface made him jump—someone was calling him. Who it could be, he didn’t know. Almost all his friends had a class on Monday mornings. He frowned. He didn’t think it could be his family either; he hadn’t done anything to annoy his sister, and his parents rarely called on weekdays.

He closed his laptop with an audible click and reached for his phone with the other hand. The number wasn’t one he recognized, and he made a face. It was going to be a talkative telemarketer with his luck. He could just let it continue ringing…

Sighing, he accepted the call. “Hello?” he said warily.

The voice on the other line sounded nervous, but familiar. He couldn’t quite place a finger on where he knew it. “HelIo,” they began almost as if in hesitation, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t suppose this is Oikawa?”

Oikawa settled back in his chair and stretched his legs under the cramped space of the desk. It was obviously not a salesperson, or at least, not a very good one. “It is,” he answered, “may I ask who’s speaking?”

A sigh of relief. “Thank god, I couldn’t tell if he was pranking me.” A muffled protest could be heard in the background. “Um, it’s Suga.”

Oikawa shot upright as he connected the voice to the name. He banged his toes on the wall in the process, but ignored the pain, his attention solely on his cell. Of _course_ it was Sugawara. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? The voice clicked perfectly. “Suga-chan! I didn’t know you had my number.”

“I didn’t,” Sugawara laughed nervously, “but my friend Kuroo did. He’s in my biology class with the other bio-med students. I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

Oikawa frowned. They shared a _class_? And Kuroo had said nothing? “Tetsu-chan is my roommate,” he drawled slowly as he thoughts raced a mile a minute, trying to make sense of it.

“What?” Sugawara exclaimed quickly. His voice grew quieter, as if he had pulled the phone away from his face to hiss at Kuroo, “you’re _roommates_ and you didn’t tell me?”

“There seems to be a lot of things Kuroo doesn’t share,” Oikawa said into the speaker testily. He could just barely make out the sound of Kuroo guffawing in the background, and then a faint yelp of pain before Sugawara began to speak again.

“Anyway,” he said in a steely tone, changing the subject, “I was wondering if you still had my notebook. I had forgotten about it until I got home. I was really distracted, I’m so sorry.”

“Ah,” Oikawa said, glad that nobody could see his face heating up, “yeah, I have it. I was going to return it tomorrow at the chem lecture. Sorry about that.” He glanced at his open backpack on the floor. It was leaning against his desk, the red notebook staring back at him. He took a moment to lean over and zip the bag closed, feeling a rush of guilt.

“It’s fine!” Sugawara assured, brushing the apology aside. “But I’m going to need it for classes, so I was wondering if you were busy.”

A quick glance at his desk was enough to provide an answer. A mug of cold coffee, a dying laptop in need of a charge…he didn’t even know how many tabs he had open for research. “I can meet up with you now,” Oikawa promised, shoving his chair back to stand. Work could wait.

“That’s great,” Sugawara replied in relief. “Uh, where do you want to meet?”

Oikawa hummed in thought as he moved to his closet to pull out street clothes. “Tetsu-chan isn’t doing anything today, so he can show you where we usually meet up. It’s got great treats." And then Oikawa could have words with him for never even hinting he shared classes with Sugawara. The ass. He had probably been struggling not to laugh when they had talked about it previously.

“I’m not hungry, but I’ll tell him.” Sugawara repeated the directions back to Kuroo, who complained loudly enough that Oikawa could hear.

"Suga-chan," he sighed, "I'm sorry you have to put up with him.”

Sugawara laughed into the receiver. “He just likes to hear his own voice, don’t worry about it. Besides, he’ll owe me soon.”

Kuroo said something in question, but Oikawa couldn't make it out and elected to ignore it.  

"It's called Le Coin Vert, okay?" he repeated hurriedly. "Just in case Tetsu-chan tries to convince you it's not. I'll see you there in less than thirty minutes. Bye for now.”

"See you then," Sugawara responded warmly and hung up the phone.

Oikawa rushed to get ready, throwing on a tattered yet stylish pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt with a band logo on the front. His hair wasn't exactly a mess, but he didn't want to deal with it so he threw on a blue beanie before snagging his backpack and keys and running to the door.

He locked the apartment and shot down the stairs. It was faster than taking the elevator that, besides  being prone to breaking down, was slow as molasses. The stairs weren’t tiring either—perks of having a room on the third floor, he thought with a smirk as he stepped outside and hung an immediate left.

The sun was warm on his face as he walked, and by the time he had reached the bridge crossing over the river, he was regretting his decision to wear sleeves. Nevertheless, he continued walking purposefully, his gaze roving across the landscape and drinking it in to keep himself occupied. The small wooden boats on the river were empty and bobbed along with the waves, held in place by ropes tying them to the pier. He couldn’t deny how pretty a place it was; the district seemed to be in a clashing war, unsure whether to use old-fashioned or modern buildings, and the entire area had an underlying French influence running beneath the surface that lent the little part of Tokyo a taste of Europe. It wasn’t rare to see a group of tourists pausing to take a picture.

Oikawa stepped off the bridge and dodged a bicyclist, stepping quickly to the safety of the empty sidewalk. The trees loomed over him, casting long shadows across the road. He had heard that when their leaves fell, they would blanket the river in a sea of color, but for now they were nothing but a refreshing sky of green above his head. He walked for maybe five minutes, enjoying the peacefulness, before crossing the street, waving his hand in thanks to the cars that had rolled to a stop to let him pass. The museum of science was just ahead, and he strode past it, his pace speeding up now that the end was in sight.

Sugawara and Kuroo were taking shelter in the shade, Sugawara sprawled across the bench with his feet propped up on the armrest. Kuroo stood above him, hands in his pockets and posed casually. They were laughing, or more accurately, Sugawara was laughing and Kuroo was flushing in embarrassment.

"What's up?" Oikawa asked curiously, swinging his backpack off his shoulder and letting it fall in front of his chest. He unzipped it and pulled out Sugawara's notebook, offering it to him. Better to do it immediately before he forgot to give it _again_.

"Ah, nothing," Sugawara said, looking suspiciously innocent. He accepted his notebook and placed it on his lap. "Thanks for going out of your way to bring it to me. Kuroo told me you usually study at this time.”

Oikawa flapped a hand in the air, waving away his thanks. "It was my fault you didn't have it," he said dismissively. "But what's so funny?"

Kuroo slung an arm around Oikawa's shoulders, using his body weight to push him down a few inches. "Nothing at all," he said, voice sounding cheerful and forced.

"Is that why you’re physically threatening me?"

"Well, aren't we clever? Yes, it is. No more questions. Same goes for you, Suga," he warned. "Don't you dare spill a word."

Sugawara sputtered out a laugh and swung his feet to the ground, giving Oikawa room to sit. "I don't think you can take both of us at once," he guessed, patting the empty spot graciously.

Oikawa escaped from Kuroo's hold and moved to perch beside Sugawara, taking a steadying breath. It was just a seat, it didn’t mean anything. He tried not to think of just how nice Sugawara’s shampoo smelled. "I still don't know what we're talking about," he complained, turning his face away to stare into the distance.

"Keep it that way," Kuroo replied with a smile that was so forced it was on the verge of being frightening. "Don't you have to go back and study now, Oikawa?”

Sugawara flicked his gaze sideways, a sheepish smile on his face. “I’m sorry to drag you out of that, by the way.”

“No worries,” Oikawa said, returning the smile without looking directly at Sugawara. “I’ll come back to it with fresh eyes. I don’t have the quiz until Friday.”

Kuroo groaned. “Why’s everything happening then?” With another drawn out sigh, he trudged closer to plop between them, where there was obviously no room. The bench was made for two to sit closely, most likely to spark a romantic atmosphere for a couple. There was definitely not enough space to contain three athletes of varying heights and their assortment of long limbs. Sugawara and Oikawa yelped in protest and threw themselves to opposite sides in hopes of escaping, but Oikawa wasn’t fast enough. His thigh was crushed under Kuroo’s weight.

“Tetsu-chan, my leg! Ow! Your bony ass is killing me!”

“Ask him,” Kuroo hissed into Oikawa’s ear, taking the opportunity while he was close. A smirk danced across his face.

Oikawa, in reply, shoved Kuroo off with a wheeze, letting him crash into Sugawara. He wondered if his flushed cheeks could pass as overexertion. “You weren’t that heavy a week ago!”

“It’s all muscle,” Kuroo bragged with a smirk, wiggling in place to get comfortable despite the small space. He made no sign that he had whispered anything, confident and smirking lazily despite his awkward seating.

Oikawa was ready to kill a man.

Sugawara was not impressed with the situation at all. He may have escaped Oikawa’s squashed fate, but he wasn’t much better off. His lower half was balancing precariously off the edge of the bench—the only reason he hadn’t yet fallen was his hand clinging to the back of the seat desperately. The muscles of his arms were taut. “Kuroo, would you like to move?” he asked through gritted teeth. “Please?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Kuroo shifted closer, tossing an arm casually around Sugawara’s shoulders.

“Kuroo!”

Oikawa took the opportunity to hop off the bench, making a dash for freedom. Kuroo’s butt was so angular and sharp it could probably be used for a weapon. That was, by all accounts, a terrible way to die.

Kuroo continued talking as if nothing had ever happened, ignoring Sugawara who was slowly but surely reclaiming the bench with determined jabs to Kuroo’s side. “Anyway,” he said cheerfully, “What were we saying? Oh, right. I’ve got two quizzes on—oof—Friday, and then we have—OW, Suga, stop punching me—that party on Saturday.”

“You remembered!” Oikawa replied, clapping his hands happily as his thoughts raced furiously in circles on how to get out of this. He wasn’t ready to ask Sugawara out for anything, and he didn’t like being rushed. Kuroo was forcing his hand.

“Don’t you patronize me,” Kuroo tried to say, but he couldn’t quite keep up with Sugawara’s assault and was now more focused on curling into a defensive ball to avoid Sugawara’s seeking fingers.

“No, no,” Oikawa fussed politely. He spoke over Kuroo’s yelps of pain as if their seat squabble didn’t exist. “I’m pleasantly surprised that you remembered.”

Kuroo made a face. “You’ve only gone on about it every chance you get—FINE, Suga, take the bench!” He dropped to the cement and crab-walked away to safety, only scrambling to his feet when he was well behind Oikawa. “There was room for both of us!”

“No room for traitors,” Sugawara replied with a yawn, stretching out luxuriously.

“What?!” Kuroo’s mouth dropped and he threw a glance from Oikawa to Sugawara and back again in disbelief. “I did nothing traitorous!”

Oikawa hummed sympathetically in a way that managed to convey just how unsympathetic he truly felt. Maybe...maybe casual was best? If he could just throw the question out as if he had just thought of it. That would probably work. “Tough luck. Anyway, Suga-chan, do you have plans for this weekend?” The blood was rushing in his ears. Was that casual?

Kuroo snapped his fingers and pointed to Sugawara. ”You should come!”

“Tetsu-chan! Let me finish asking my question!”

Sugawara interrupted their squabble. “I’ve got some friends coming from Miyagi for the first time,” he said, sitting upright and addressing Oikawa. “So I’ll be busy showing them the sights of the city. Why, what’s up?”

“Damn. Anyone we know?” Kuroo asked, distracting Sugawara.

Oikawa took the chance to pick up his fallen heart– he knew it had been a slim chance. And he didn’t need to go to a party with him, anyway. _Friends,_ he reminded himself, gritting his teeth. He had never thought such a quick rejection would hurt so much.

“Yeah.” Sugawara grinned and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. He turned it so that the other two could see his lock screen, a snapshot of two grinning figures hanging over Sugawara. All three were in volleyball uniforms, and from the background Oikawa guessed it was from a tournament match, maybe one of their last.

Oikawa leaned closer and squinted. “That was your captain, right? Big muscle head.”

Kuroo guffawed at the remark, but Sugawara only looked amused. “His name is Daichi. Kuroo knows him very well, don’t you, Kuroo?”

“We’re like this,” Kuroo agreed sagely, holding up crossed fingers. “And I’m calling him a big muscle head next time I see him.”

“I only said that because Iwaizumi knows him,” Oikawa said hastily. He didn’t want to offend Sugawara with his offhand comments. Heartbroken or not, he was going to act normal if it killed him. “They apparently went to the same gym and would talk on the treadmills.”

Sugawara nodded. “I wouldn’t doubt it. He’s on a local college team there, second string. And this other guy,” he pointed to his screensaver, “is Asahi.”  
  
“Karasuno’s old ace,” Oikawa recalled, closing his eyes momentarily. “I remember him. He had nice hair, I don’t think I could pull it off.”

Sugawara regarded his own light hair, contemplating. “Eh, me either. I’d be too afraid of what it’d look like in the morning.”

“You guys. The real question you should be considering is, will they make it all the way to Tokyo?” Kuroo snickered. “Poor Daichi can’t tell his left from his right, from what I remember.”

“If you’re referring to that time at the training camp, it’s my duty as his friend to point out that you led him in circles,” Sugawara supplied with a sigh.

Kuroo waited.

“But you’re right. I already gave them directions and a map to print out.”

“Called it!” Kuroo crowed.

“Well,” Oikawa said, clapping his hands, “If we see two strays wandering around hopelessly, we’ll be sure to call you. Now, however, I am hungry and demand compensation for stepping away from my air-conditioned room. Tetsu-chan, if you’ll be so kind?” He languidly pointed across the street, where the cafe had just opened.

“Not likely,” Kuroo scoffed. He leaned over, his hand springing forward to squeeze the bulge in Oikawa’s back pocket. Ignoring his indignant squawk, he lightly plucked the wallet free and held it victoriously in the air. “Drinks on Oikawa?” He smirked to Sugawara.

“That was my _butt!_!”

“Not much of one.”

Sugawara sucked on his lower lip to keep from laughing. “That’s okay, Kuroo, return his wallet. My class is starting in just a bit and I’ve got to head out.”

Oikawa, occupied trying to strangle Kuroo and take back his wallet at the same time, looked up in surprise. “So soon? You didn’t say anything about that over the phone.”

A sheepish smile flitted across Sugawara’s face. “I didn’t want to pressure you into returning the notebook if you were busy.”

“You lied!” Oikawa said incredulously, shaking his head in disbelief.

Kuroo let out of a huff of breath in an attempt to blow a lock of hair out of his eyes. He probably would’ve used his hands if Oikawa didn’t have him locked in a bear hug, restricting his movement. “I’m on your side,” he offered to Oikawa, squirming to escape. “We should punish Suga!”

Oikawa only released him when Kuroo’s bony elbow managed to whack him in the chin—Kuroo was far too tall and lanky. “We get to shower you in food, Suga-chan,” he declared, placing his hands on his hips. “Right now.”

“What the hell kind of punishment is that, Oikawa?” Kuroo demanded outright. “I thought we were out for blood.” He punched his palm in a threatening manner, but was ignored. If this was his attempt at being a wingman, Oikawa was not impressed.

“I’ll be late to my class!” Sugawara protested, already picking up his backpack from the ground. “I can’t miss any of it or I’ll be behind for…well, forever.”

Kuroo clucked his tongue and glanced at the course title labeled on the front of the notebook in Sugawara’s hands. “It’s only…fuck, Sugawara, why are you taking _that_ course? We’re majoring in the same field, and I know you didn’t have to start with that level of biochemistry.”

Oikawa dipped his head to read the title, then reared back and stuck his tongue out in disgust. “Suga-chan, don’t tell me you’re a masochist.”

“Science is a far better torture instrument than _food showers,_ ” Kuroo said. It sounded like he was still miffed that Oikawa had offered up food.

“We’re literally studying to become scientists, Tetsu-chan.”

“You got me there. Maybe we’re all masochists.”

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow in class,” Sugawara sighed, standing up and dusting the seat of his pants. “If I don’t freeze to death before then. The professor doesn’t believe in restraint when it comes to air conditioning. It’s always on full blast, and I forgot a jacket.”

Oikawa bit his lip, cursing himself silently. How hard would it have been to grab the hoodie off his chair before leaving? “Sorry, Suga-chan. I’d offer you my shirt,” he held out his arms, displaying the long, comfy sleeves, “but I don’t want to be arrested for stripping in a public area, no matter the beauty underneath.”

“That’s understandable,” Sugawara agreed, nodding seriously.

“And easily solved,” Kuroo interjected. He reached forward and snagged the top of Oikawa’s beanie, tugging it off and tossing it to Sugawara in one fluid movement.

It flopped against Sugawara’s chest before he raised a hand in surprise to catch it. “Kuroo—“

“Nope,” Kuroo interrupted, turning his back and raising a hand to silence Sugawara. “No need for thanks.” He winked at Oikawa, who was trying to convey his vast hatred using only his eyes.

Sugawara held out the beanie, his fingers curled around the soft material. “That’s not what I was going to say. What is a hat going to do for me, Kuroo?”

Kuroo scoffed. “Keep your ears warm, duh.”

“As the rest of me becomes a human popsicle?” Sugawara looked more amused than anything.

“Just put the damn hat on and say thank you, Suga.” He flashed a grin to Oikawa, which was not returned.

Sugawara looked to Oikawa for permission, and took his raised hands and silence as acceptance. “Thank you, Suga,” he mimicked in a high voice, pulling it on until it covered the tips of his ears. His cheeks might’ve been pink but it was hard to tell because he had begun quickly striding forward.

“Have fun in class, smart ass!” Kuroo called as Sugawara passed.

A wave over his head was the only indicator that Sugawara had heard. He disappeared around the corner in a few moments, his steps hurried.

Kuroo clapped a hand on Oikawa’s shoulder and pulled him closer. “That went well, don’t you think? It’s harder than I thought setting people up. Sorry he said no, though. Sucks, man.”

“You just stole my favorite beanie. And gave it away.”

“Very observant today, aren’t we? Did you also notice just how cute he was?”

“Tetsurou. Never try to set me up again.” He clenched and unclenched his fists. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if his face was as red as it felt.

Kuroo pursed his lips in thought. “Was that what I was doing? I thought I was, how do you say it, being your wingman.”

“Never again,” Oikawa repeated.

“Okay, okay. What if I told you I know something you don’t know?”

“I don’t care!” Oikawa said in exasperation, flinging his hands in the air. “I don’t want to hear another word about Sugawara from you! You’re banned!”

“Okay~,” Kuroo sang, deliberately teasing him. He gave another friendly pat to Oikawa’s shoulder before strolling away with a casual air. “Don’t worry though, Tooru- _chan_ ,” he called, “I won’t stop helping you over something as small as that. We’re besties now! You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Oikawa placed his head in his hands and groaned. “This is a _nightmare_ .”  
 

* * *

  
The party wasn't that exciting, or at least it wasn’t the kind that Oikawa had always imagined alongside the word  _college_. He had always imagined something akin to a club atmosphere, with loud music pumping through his body and the smell of excitement and rash decisions in the air. In reality, it smelled like cheap drinks and body odor.

It had taken a ten-minute subway to reach the station nearest the location, but they had spent an extra twenty minutes just walking to it because Kuroo had stopped at every corner to gawk at the crowd. The apartment wasn’t a good party setting either— it was on the small side, and jam-packed with rowdy college students. Oikawa considered it a small blessing that there actually was no loud music playing, just snippets of songs blasting from strangers’ phones at times, nothing too loud that would disturb the neighbors in the late hour.

 _That_ made Oikawa snort. Even without trashy music, the noise level was loud enough to assure no one on the adjacent floors would be getting much sleep unless the walls were thicker than they looked. He was just glad that the majority of the building housed college students who didn’t seem the sleeping type. In fact, now that he thought about it, they were all likely trying to converge in this one room, which would explain why it was _impossible_ to turn without bumping noses.

Too many people breathing the same air and sharing the same space made the room stuffy and soon a trickle of sweat was running down his back. It had been two hours since they had arrived, and Oikawa was done. His phone’s charge was almost gone, and so was his patience. It was time to leave.

Oikawa fought his way from the main room to the kitchen, squeezing through small spaces between bodies, trying his best to avoid bruises. Honestly, who thought it was a good idea to cram so many people in one place? He huffed. This was _not_ the way he was going to spend the rest of the night, not when he had a lab write-up to finish and a paper to write. There were better uses of his time than trying to socialize with a group of strangers that he could barely hear. These kinds of parties were only fun when you came with friends, and his friend, his quote unquote _wingman_ , had disappeared.

Which brought him to the question of the night– where was Kuroo?

He could leave as soon as he found him, but the task was beginning to seem impossible. His tall roommate had disappeared the moment they had passed the threshold, without even a word of warning. All attempts at texting had failed– Kuroo hadn’t even seen them, according to Oikawa’s phone.

Still stuck in the narrow corridor connecting the rooms, Oikawa grabbed the elbow of a girl who was busy chatting to a friend and taking up valuable space in the walkway. "Have you seen anyone with horrible bedhead, about this tall?" Oikawa asked loudly over the din of chatter, waving his hand a few inches above his head. A vague description, he knew, but Kuroo stood out and his hair was near impossible to forget.

“Bedhead? Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome is over there," the girl cracked with a smile, motioning to the back of the kitchen. “He’s been chugging drinks for the past fifteen minutes. Pretty impressively, too.”

"Thanks," Oikawa offered with a hasty smile, unlatching himself and pushing once more into the crowd of bodies. Luckily, the kitchen was smaller and far less cramped. In the dim lighting, he could just barely make out the outline of Kuroo, his spiked hair giving him away. Oikawa squinted, looking closer. “Oh, come on,” he muttered under his breath. Of _course_ Kuroo was the center of a lopsided circle, throwing back _soda cans_ and burping when he came up for air.

With a sigh of relief, Oikawa lunged forward and grabbed Kuroo's arm, tugging insistently. "Tetsu-chan, let's go," he whined into his ear, loud enough to be heard over the chanting of Kuroo’s name. He had obviously been chugging long enough to gain a small following.

Kuroo twisted to face him, a crooked smile painting his face. "Tired already, O Sociable One?" He tossed the finished can to the nearest trash bin easily, despite its state of overflowing. A few cans clattered to the floor, startling a nearby couple. Oikawa’s eyes flicked away from them quickly; that was another reason to leave. The one he really wanted to be with wasn’t even here.

 _Why’d you think of Sugawara?_ He chided himself. Aloud, he said, "Yes, and I'm not leaving without you and your bad decisions.”

"No need to worry about either, Oikawa,” Kuroo quipped, “we’re almost done.”

"Please?" Oikawa begged. He tried his best to keep the whine out of his tone, but his party mood had soured.

Kuroo appraised him quickly, an eyebrow raising. "Alright, fine, let's get you out of this mess. I’ve got something for you, anyway." He locked elbows with Oikawa and began tugging him back towards the living room, much to the disappointment of his new fan club.

Oikawa at first tried to recapture his arm, but soon realized that it was much better to stay latched on. Kuroo was basically a human bulldozer, his outstretched arm knocking others out of their path. It took only a minute of stumbling to reach the exit.

"Do you have everything?" Kuroo questioned, patting his own pockets to check for his wallet and keys.

"Yeah, yeah," Oikawa responded, giving his own pocket a quick pat, "Let's just go.”

Kuroo opened the door long enough for them to slip out. It closed with a click, only slightly dampening the background noise of drunken laughter and yelling.

The stench of cheap beer had also followed them into the hallway. "Did you drink?" Oikawa asked, wrinkling his nose.

"Yeah, all the _soda_. I'm not going to get any sleep tonight, I can literally feel the caffeine rushing through my veins. Ever wonder what it feels like to be a god? I can tell you in an hour, if I haven’t died."

Oikawa rolled his eyes and suppressed a smile. “That was stupid. Did you at least take some food?"

"Of course I did!" Kuroo cried, stuffing his hands in his pockets and drawing out handfuls of bagged snacks. "It was the first thing I did."

"Is _that_ where you disappeared to? To the kitchen, to steal all the owner’s food?"

Kuroo frowned. "Alright, it wasn't the first thing I did. But, yes, Oikawa, a man's gotta eat somehow."

"Well, where'd you go first? It wasn't that big of a place, and I couldn’t find you anywhere. There were only so many classmates I could talk to before becoming utterly bored."

"Aw, you missed me? Oikawa, that's so sweet. Don't worry about me, though, I was just doing recon. For you, as your wingman.”  
  
“What?” Oikawa asked warily. If Kuroo was going to attempt to hook him up with someone, he was going to have another thing coming. Oikawa wasn’t in the mood to make nice with strangers, however nice kissing sounded right about then.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how tired are you?"

Oikawa shrugged a shoulder and began walking down the hall. "I don't know. I could last a few more hours, if it’s away from a crowd. Why?" He paused and glanced at Kuroo in suspicion. His roommate had been surprisingly restrained throughout the week. Not that Kuroo couldn’t be quiet, but it was an...eery calm. Unnatural. He had been planning something.

Kuroo grinned. "Just watch this, you'll love it." He stepped forward, not to the door where they had just left from but to the door on the _opposite_ side of the hall. He fell into it with his shoulder, his weight shaking the door where it stood.

"Tetsu!" Oikawa hissed, spinning on his heel and jumping to pull Kuroo away. "What are you _doing?_ "

The door cracked open before Kuroo could answer, catching them in the act.

Well then. Oikawa knew exactly what to do in this situation after years of cleaning up Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s messes. He straightened and dusted off Kuroo’s shoulders, acting as if he hadn’t just been caught mid-tackle. "So sorry about that," Oikawa began hurriedly, throwing on his best smile that was served alongside his very best excuse. "My friend is a little drunk, and he lacks the coordination to walk, so he tends to trip into doors. Wait– is that—Sawamura-san?!" He released Kuroo abruptly, eyes wide.

The door swung open further, revealing the short but imposing figure of Daichi, arms crossed over his chest, fingers tapping his arm. He wore a pair of old gym shorts and a stained band tee—Oikawa guessed he was dressed for bed.

If Daichi was surprised, his face didn't show it. "Oikawa, Kuroo," he greeted politely with a nod of his head and a faint smile.

Kuroo straightened until Daichi had to look up at him, plastering a grin on his face. "Daichi!" he crowed, throwing an arm around his broad shoulders and pulling Daichi into a side embrace. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm visiting a friend," Daichi answered patiently, shrugging off Kuroo's arm and gesturing to the two figures who had appeared in the hallway behind him—Sugawara and a figure towering over him that could only be Asahi. "But you already knew that, I thought?"

There was something in his tone that Oikawa couldn't quite place. "Did we know that?” he asked nervously, running a quick hand through his hair. "I mean, yeah, we knew you'd be in town, but not _here_ here. Right, Tetsu-chan?"

Kuroo nodded seriously and threw up his hands. "Who knew?" His tone said otherwise, and Oikawa’s eye twitched in annoyance. So this was what ‘recon’ meant. Kuroo was dead, as soon as they were alone. In that moment, Oikawa was willing to become a wanted criminal, so long as justice was served.

Sugawara stepped forward to stand beside Daichi in the threshold. He looked at Kuroo in almost pity. "Kuroo,” he began delicately, “we saw you in the hallway when we stepped off the elevator. And on the way home. You’re pretty tall, and Oikawa is pretty, uh.” He trailed off. “Well, you two stand out."

Somewhere in the back of Oikawa’s mind, he was screaming, wanting to know what Sugawara had been about to say, but he was too mortified from the situation to ask out loud.

"Oh." A faint blush colored Kuroo's cheeks but he tried to stay cool, shoving his hands in his pant pockets and forcing a laugh.

Oikawa turned on his roommate. “Is _that_ why it took so long to walk here? You saw them following us and decided to spy on them?”

Sugawara was barely managing to keep a straight face. ”You weren't exactly the most subtle peeking out the door every few seconds to see which apartment was mine either,“ he added, almost apologetically.

Kuroo cringed. "I'm, uh, sorry about…running into your door."

Sugawara nodded. “That’s okay. You won me some money from our bets.”

"Oikawa said you were drunk?" Daichi asked. "You should be more careful." To his credit, he actually looked concerned. Kuroo, on the other hand, looked as if he was waiting for a rift to open beneath his feet and the world to swallow him whole. If his plan was to surprise everyone, it had failed miserably.

Oikawa eyed Kuroo from the side. "We were in the neighborhood for the party across the hall, or so I _thought_. Now I know why I couldn’t find him.”

"Is he going to be alright getting home?" Asahi asked, finally speaking up. “How far away is it?”

Kuroo put up his hands apologetically, brushing his concerns aside. "No worries, I'll be fine—“ he began.

"Nonsense," Sugawara interrupted, cutting him off briskly. Oikawa could’ve sworn his eyes were _twinkling_ with childish glee. Did eyes twinkle? "You guys can stay here. It’s dangerous to go out at night drunk." He sent a quick, questioning glance to his friends, who both shrugged their assent. What were two more sleeping bodies on the floor?

“But I'm not drunk," Kuroo tried desperately, but his protests fell upon deaf ears. “I’m a grown man, I can take care of myself. Suga!”

Sugawara rolled his eyes and grabbed Oikawa's wrist, leading him into the apartment. "Inside, Kuroo, now," he ordered, not looking back to see if he had listened. He paused just long enough for Oikawa to kick off his shoes at the entrance before pulling him farther into the apartment.

Oikawa swallowed back a lump in his throat. He didn’t know why such a small thing was getting under his skin, but the hand on his wrist sent distracting thoughts in his mind of where else he could touch. Sugawara’s hands were definitely those of a setter, his nails clipped back and filed despite the fact they didn’t play anymore. Narrow, long fingers connected to an almost boxish palm that tapered off to a thin, angular wrist. They looked delicate, and yet Oikawa knew the overwhelming strength in his grip, recognized the hard work that calloused his skin.

He wondered if Sugawara ever missed playing volleyball as sorely as he did.

They filed into the living room, Asahi locking the door as Sugawara flopped onto the couch, dragging Oikawa down with him with a sly grin and a snicker, as if they had just shared some inside joke.

Oikawa nervously grinned back, but slid his wrist free from Sugawara’s grip to sit on his hands. He didn’t trust himself.

"So," Kuroo started awkwardly after a beat of silence, "what were you three doing before we so rudely interrupted?" He perched on the edge of the couch, leg jiggling.

"You," Oikawa corrected from his seat, sinking into the cushions, " _you_ rudely interrupted. As I remember, you said, ‘ _Just watch!’_ and fell into their door."

Daichi swallowed back another laugh and sat on the floor, crossing his legs, his back against the couch. "How much did you drink, Kuroo?"

"I didn't drink anything alcoholic," Kuroo groaned, sliding off his seat slowly and collapsing beside Daichi. "Why does no one believe me?"

"I do," Sugawara assured him, leaning across Oikawa’s lap to pat Kuroo’s head in comfort. "You don't need alcohol to embarrass yourself."

Oikawa stiffened and took a steadying breath. "Nice one, Suga-chan," he sang, his voice not betraying the butterflies in his gut.

"No! Not nice!" Kuroo protested, keeling over until his forehead was resting on Daichi's knee. "Daichi, protect my honor."

"Not going to happen, sorry."

"Ugh." Kuroo slumped further in defeat.

“Maybe there’s a lesson to be learned in this,” Sugawara inserted slyly, flashing a look to Kuroo.

Their conversation was put on hold before Kuroo could come up with a retort; Sugawara sprang off the couch, placing a hand on Oikawa's knee to help him jump to his feet. "Asahi! You didn't have to get the blankets, I was going to get them!"

Asahi walked into the room, his chest nearly buried by the pile of blankets he carried in his arms. "It's fine," he assured, "I wanted to help."

Sugawara rolled his eyes in exasperation and began taking blankets to relieve his load. "You're the guest, Asahi. I’m supposed to take care of you. I don't even know how you found the closet."

"I found it earlier today when I needed to use the restroom," Asahi explained. "I figured with this many people staying the night, we might as well all just crash in the living room."

“A sleepover party!” Kuroo cheered sarcastically, voice muffled. “It’s like I’m a child again!”

Daichi raised an eyebrow and shook his thigh, but Kuroo was like a leech and didn’t move. “You _are_ a child, Tetsurou.”

"You guys are staying the night?" Oikawa asked curiously over the sound of Kuroo sputtering.

Daichi nodded and poked Kuroo in the side experimentally. "We're leaving early in the morning, though. Just a warning. I've got practice in the afternoon."

"You're the only one who kept playing volleyball after high school," Kuroo called, face still buried in Daichi's leg. "Lame." He received another poke in the side as Daichi shushed him.

"I think that's great," Oikawa said, pulling himself off the couch to help pass out blankets. "You get to stay around Karasuno and help them out, right?"

Daichi hummed, nodding his head. "When I can. Practices are pretty time consuming right now. That's why we could only come visit Suga today."

Sugawara rolled his eyes and handed Daichi a blanket. "I said I would come visit you guys during the next break, you know."

"And we'll just keep visiting until then," Asahi called from the kitchen. From the noises, it sounded like he was rummaging in the fridge.

Oikawa grinned at Sugawara, accepting the last blanket from his arms and tossing it to Kuroo. Daichi intercepted the toss and threw it over Kuroo's head with a snort of amusement.

"This was a terrible idea." Kuroo reared upright as he clawed the blanket off his head, taking a moment to try to fix his hair. A losing battle, really.

"So, are we going to sleep?" Asahi asked, walking back into the living room. He had removed his headband and his long hair now framed his face in gentle brown waves. "It's a little after midnight, and our train leaves at nine in the morning.”

"How far away is the station?" Daichi asked, stretching his arm to reach onto the couch. "We'll probably have to wake up around six just to make it in time." He snagged a throw cushion and fluffed it before putting it on the ground and resting his head on it. His blanket was wrapped around him, and he looked very much like a human burrito from the chest down. Kuroo curled up under a thick quilt only a foot to his left, upper arm propping up his head in lieu of a pillow.

"Only if you take the way you tried earlier, Daichi," Sugawara sighed. "It's less than half an hour. You'll be fine if we get up just before eight."

"You got lost, Daichi?" Kuroo teased sleepily.

“Shut up, Tetsurou,” Daichi sighed. “Let it go.”

Asahi crawled onto the couch, pulling a small blanket over his curled legs. “Maybe it’s time to sleep,” he suggested helpfully.

Sugawara threw a pillow at him, smacking him square in the nose. “Let them fight, Asahi, it’ll tire them out. They’re like toddlers,” he called as he disappeared down a back hallway.

“Overgrown, whiny toddlers,” Oikawa added, toeing Kuroo in the butt from where he stood. He threw his own claimed quilt beside Kuroo on the floor.

“This always happens when I’m with you, Tetsurou,” Daichi groaned, burying his face in his pillow.

“It’s a curse,” Kuroo offered apologetically.

Sugawara returned with yet another pillow and a pair of gym shorts with a bright orange workout shirt. A black crow with outstretched wings decorated the back, captured mid-flight, with the Karasuno logo centered in white over its back. He tossed the clothes to Oikawa.

Despite his surprise, he caught the pile on his first try, and could see the dark blue of a familiar beanie underneath.

“My hat,” he said in surprise, holding it up. “I had almost forgotten about it.” _That_ was a lie. He had been waiting for Sugawara to wear it in their shared class all week, but had been out of luck. Kuroo had teased him endlessly about it but neither had actually broached the subject to Sugawara. Oikawa didn’t want to admit how okay he was with letting him keep the hat.

“I figured I should return it before I forgot,” Sugawara explained easily with a shrug. “Sorry it took a while. It saved me during class all week.”

Asahi twisted on the couch to see the hat in question. “That’s yours, Oikawa?” he asked, surprised. “Huh. Suga was wearing it so much today that I thought it was his.”

Oikawa tried his best not to gape like a fish, but by the smirk on Kuroo’s face he could tell he was failing. Luckily, Sugawara looked just as eager to escape the situation, pointing to the clothes in Oikawa’s hands.

“I thought that your clothes might be uncomfortable to sleep in,” he said, gesturing to Oikawa’s outfit. It was true; his jeans were already stiff and his shirt must’ve smelled of sweat. “The shirt should fit, it’s big on me. I think I accidentally traded with Asahi at one point in the locker room.”

“That’s why mine doesn’t fit.” Asahi frowned.

Oikawa nodded to Sugawara in thanks, still not trusting his voice to work correctly.

“What, nothing for me?” Kuroo scoffed.

“You’re already under the covers, Kuroo,” Daichi responded tiredly.

Oikawa slipped behind the couch to swap clothes, turning to face the wall as he changed speedily. The shorts had a drawstring waist and could fit comfortably above his hips, but he wondered if they rode up his thighs too far. The shirt, at least, fit well, just as promised. The fabric was soft against his skin, and he wondered if Sugawara had ever fallen asleep in the same exact shirt.

“Thank you, Suga-chan,” he called, balling his old clothes under his arm and rejoining the others. He lowered himself to the floor and placed the pile beside him, subtly shifting them closer to Kuroo. They still smelled of cheap alcohol, and he wasn’t about to smell that the entire night if he could help it.

“No problem,” Sugawara replied easily, stepping to the light switch on the wall and flicking it off. He picked his way carefully around the bodies lying on the floor before settling down at Oikawa’s other side. “Is everyone good?”

A chorus of murmured agreement, and then silence. The party across the hall was still in full swing, judging by the sound, but it was distant, muted. It felt almost as if they were sitting in a fishbowl. The only sound Oikawa focused on was the shifting of blankets and slow breathing around him. He didn’t know quite how he had managed to get himself into this situation, but he had to admit, it was pleasant.

He drifted off easily, curling on his side and letting the peacefulness lull him to sleep.

And almost immediately woke up.

That wasn’t quite true, but it felt like it. One moment he was dreaming and the next he was choking on a sickly sweet stench.

“Rise and shine,” Kuroo whispered, face inches from his own.

“Ugh,” Oikawa grunted in disgust, shoving away Kuroo’s head and trying to take a breath of fresh air. It smelled as if something had crawled into Kuroo’s mouth and died. “Go away, Tetsurou.”

“Everyone else is about to wake up, though.” Kuroo stifled a giggle. “And I thought you would want to see this.”  
  
Oikawa growled irritably. “I don’t know what you’re saying. Let me sleep.” What _time_ was it? Despite his hatred for Kuroo’s coffee maker, he couldn’t deny that he would do just about anything for a cup of questionable coffee. Or maybe just to sleep…sleeping was always nice.

Kuroo flicked him in the forehead to keep his eyes from closing. “Do you not feel your passenger? He’s like a koala bear. Just as adorable, too.”

Now that Kuroo mentioned it, Oikawa did notice that he couldn’t quite move. His back was aching as well, like he needed to stretch out but couldn’t. He craned his neck, careful not to shift too much, and could see a freckled forearm thrown over his waist, a familiar hand curled above his abdomen. His eyes followed the arm up to its owner. The face wasn’t visible, but the silvery head of hair was unmistakable.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he hissed through his teeth, twisting back to a grinning Kuroo. All his damn effort had gone out the window, but this time it wasn’t even his own fault. It was _Sugawara’s_. And Sugawara’s arm and his back and his chest and– Oikawa needed to leave, immediately.

“I’ve been up for _hours_ ,” Kuroo announced matter of factly. “You two have been snuggling since...two? Don’t worry, I took pictures. You should change the password on your phone, by the way. It was easy to guess. Well, it took maybe an hour because it kept locking, but I got it eventually. Also, it died, and I couldn’t find a charger to save my life.”

Oikawa blinked slowly before remembering that his friend was still feeling the effects of caffeine. “Are you done chattering?! Help me move before everyone wakes up.”

Kuroo pouted, propping himself up with his elbows. “But that takes all the fun out of it.”

“Tetsurou!”

“Alright, alright. I doubt Suga is a light sleeper, though. You kick in your sleep. He’s probably going to have bruises the shape of your foot.”

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “Great to know! That’s so helpful right now!”

Kuroo sat upright and began peeling Sugawara’s arms away. “You know,” he whispered hotly, rolling his eyes, “everyone thinks _I’m_ a terrible morning person, but they haven’t met you.”

“You didn’t sleep!” Oikawa hissed back as he wiggled hopefully, finally freeing himself. He sat upright and ran a hand through his hair. It was flattened to the side of his head and he combed his fingers through it in hopes of making it decent. He wasn’t that worried about how he would look, not when Kuroo looked as if squirrels had nested on his head.

“You’re welcome,” Kuroo sang in a low voice, still smirking.

“I would say thank you,” Oikawa sniffed, “but you’re the reason we’re _here_ in the first place.”  
  
“Just more reason for thanks!” Kuroo protested. “Admit it, I’m a great wingman.”

Oikawa crawled to his feet, leaning over to grab his wrinkled clothes from the day before. “What time is it now, Tetsu?”

Kuroo rolled onto his side to stretch across the distance, snagging his own phone and clicking it on. “Almost eight. Their alarms will go off soon, I saw Daichi set his. Are you hungry? I’m sort of hungry. I ate all my snacks about an hour ago.”

“Should we wake them now?” Oikawa asked, changing back into his own clothes quickly.

A tired groan sounded from the floor beside Kuroo. “No need.” Daichi yawned, rolling upright and rubbing his eyes. “I’m up.”

“Did we wake you?” Kuroo winced. “Sorry, man.”

“Yes. No. Probably.”

Kuroo suppressed a smile. “You have _such_ a way with words, babe.”

Oikawa tried to keep his voice at a normal level. “What woke you up, Daichi?”

“Tetsu’s loud voice,” Daichi gritted. “Do you not know what a whisper is?”

“Sorry,” Kuroo replied automatically. “I’m _so_ tired, but my brain refuses to sleep. It’s a thing caffeine does to me.”

“I thought you were drunk?”  
  
“I don’t drink alcohol.”

Daichi stared at him for a blank two seconds before sighing and rubbing his eyes. “At least pretend you have a hangover. Quietly, please.”  
  
On the couch, Asahi stirred awake, stretching his legs and narrowly missing kicking Daichi in the head. “Is it time to go?” he grumbled groggily.

“Suga’s not awake,” Daichi sighed. “We might as well get him up since everyone else is.”

The four turned to face the snoring figure sprawled on the floor. His blanket was twisted throughout his legs and he looked peaceful, if his awkwardly splayed arms were ignored. Kuroo hadn’t done a good job at rearranging his limbs.

“Well, that can’t be comfortable,” Oikawa stated, tittering nervously.

Daichi pulled himself to his feet and offered a hand to Asahi to lug him off the couch. “We’ll grab our stuff, if you two can wake him up, please.” He yawned again before stumbling down the hallway that probably led to Sugawara’s bedroom. Asahi followed suit.

By the time Daichi and Asahi had returned to the living room, Sugawara was shuffling around the kitchen, yawning but awake, and blissfully ignorant. Kuroo had opened the fridge and was staring dejectedly at the empty shelves.

“Suga, why don’t you have anything to eat?”

“What? I just restocked last week.” Sugawara glanced over Kuroo’s shoulder and groaned. “Asahi!”

“I get hungry,” Asahi said guiltily.

“That wasn’t smart. What am I supposed to feed you now?”  
  
Daichi shrugged on his backpack. “We’ll just pick something up on the way to the station, don’t worry.”

“In that case,” Kuroo declared, swinging the refrigerator door firmly shut, “I’ll go with you two.”

“You want us all to go?” Oikawa asked.

“Isn’t the station the opposite way of your apartment?” Sugawara raised an eyebrow at Kuroo.

“Look, I’m just in it for the food. I’ll walk them to the station, and they’ll feed me. It all works out. You and Oikawa can stay behind until he’s ready to head out.”

Asahi shrugged, shouldering his own backpack. “That works for me. Daichi?”

“I’m fine with that. We haven’t talked with Tetsurou for a while, anyway.”

Kuroo grinned catlike. “It’ll be fun, just like old times.”

Daichi grimaced slightly. “Okay, now that I think about it…” He laughed as Kuroo dropped the grin and gasped in mock hurt.

Oikawa studied Kuroo, trying to discern if he had arranged this yet again to leave Oikawa alone with Sugawara, but he seemed his normal self, albeit caffeinated and tired.

“That’s good, I guess,” Sugawara agreed with a shrug, walking closer to his friends. “Visit more often, okay?” He pulled them both into a hug.

Asahi snorted. “First you tell us you’ll visit us, now you tell us to come over more. Make up your mind, Suga.”

Sugawara let go of them and grinned. “Whatever. Text me when you guys reach the station, okay? I don’t need you guys getting lost and missing your train.”

“I’ll take care of them,” Kuroo said, unlocking the door and pulling it open. “Daichi, haven’t you ever heard of a GPS? It’s this really nifty thing on your phone that shows you where you want to go.”

“That would be so helpful, if I had a smartphone,” Daichi replied patiently, pulling out a flip phone. It must’ve been at least ten years old, and the corners were chipped beyond repair. The state of the keypad wasn’t any better– it looked as if the top left key was permanently mashed inward.

Kuroo whistled, impressed. “No wonder you don’t text me back much.”

Asahi and Daichi stepped into the main hallways after him, waving a final goodbye to Sugawara before closing the door. Their laughing voices could still be heard as they moved to the elevator.

“That was nice,” Oikawa said, breaking the silence that had fallen over the apartment. “Thanks for letting us stay over, by the way. You didn’t have to.”

“No, but I wanted to. Besides, I knew Kuroo wanted to see Daichi, and...well, it all worked out.”

Oikawa blinked. “Are they good friends?”

Sugawara laughed outright as he walked back to the kitchen. He had left a pot of coffee to brew and now poured two mugs full, leaving one at the table for Oikawa to touch up how he liked. “You can say that, I guess. Kuroo wants it to be a little more, if you can’t already tell.”

“Ahh.” Oikawa tapped his chin thoughtfully. “That explains a lot, actually.” He went to the fridge and snagged a bottle of creamer, pouring a bit into his coffee before testing it daintily. The resulting coffee wasn’t anything to brag home about, but after weeks drinking Kuroo’s crap, it was heavenly. If he could’ve melted into the floor, he would have.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know. He makes it pretty obvious.”

Oikawa made a face and sipped his drink. “Kuroo tends to distract me whenever the subject of who he likes comes up.” As in, mention Sugawara. It was his trump card, and he wasn’t afraid to play it.

“Better than Daichi,” Sugawara replied glumly as he leaned backwards to rest along the edge of the counter. “He’s as oblivious as they come.”

“We should set them up.” Oikawa snickered into his coffee mug. Now that he knew the subject of Kuroo’s affections, it would be so easy to reverse all his terrible attempts of matchmaking. It was _his_ turn to play wingman. Actually…“Suga-chan, I have an idea.”

Sugawara sipped his coffee and appraised Oikawa. “Should I be scared?”

“Nonsense. It’s great, just like all my other ideas.”

“That’s exactly why I’m worried,” Sugawara shot back with a smirk. “Am I necessary in this plan?”

Relaxing his stance, Oikawa leaned against the fridge, facing Sugawara. “Only if you want to watch.”  
  
“Watch what?” Sugawara had drained his coffee mug and now set it in the sink, turning on the faucet to let the cup soak.  
  
“A movie, of course,” Oikawa grinned. “We’ll invite everyone. My friends, your friends. It’ll even be on the weekend so we could kidnap Kuroo’s best friend, Kozume.” He took a final swig from his own cup before moving to the sink and copying him, narrowly bumping hips. The kitchen was a smaller space than he had anticipated, and Oikawa felt a bit hot standing so close to Sugawara. He backed away hastily, retreating back to the safety of the living room.  
  
Sugawara laughed, drifting after him. “He won’t appreciate being kidnapped. And why doesn’t he have a cutesy nickname? I thought you gave everybody one.”  
  
Oikawa made a sour face. “I was threatened after calling him a puddinghead the last time he visited.”  
  
“Ah, Kuroo?” Sugawara asked sympathetically. “He can be protective.”  
  
“No, Kozume. The glare he gave me...even I know better than to tempt fate like that.” Oikawa shuddered.

Sugawara cackled and they moved closer to the door, where Oikawa sat with his back against the frame to lace his sneakers on his socked feet. Sugawara hovered above, his arms crossed and a playful smile glued to his face. “So, when do you want to do this movie?” he asked.  
  
“I’ll ask around to see when everybody’s available,” Oikawa replied with a shrug.

“And where will it be?”  
  
Oikawa flashed him a look. “You ask a lot of questions for somebody who doesn’t have faith in my ideas. And probably my apartment. It’s a bit bigger than this one, so it won’t be as cramped.”

“So...that’s it? A movie?”

“No! We’ll sneak out!”

“I don’t get it,” Sugawara said firmly, offering a hand to help Oikawa stand, “but tell me when you have the details. I’ll definitely come, even if I think it’s a crazy idea.”

“Suga-chan! I knew you loved me,” Oikawa teased, clasping his wrist and pulling himself to his feet.

Sugawara rolled his eyes and snorted. “I owe you a raincheck, remember? Might as well make it a date.”

Oikawa left the apartment with his head spinning, not sure what to make of that. _It’s just a friend date,_ he assured himself, rolling his eyes at the naive excitement he had felt after hearing that. _A prank to pull on our friends. Don’t try to read between the lines._  
 

* * *

  
It had taken weeks before a suitable day had finally been chosen for the group to meet. Everyone had such busy lives that never seemed to match up. If Daichi didn’t have practice, then Asahi worked nights. If Iwaizumi didn’t have a test to study for, then Kenma was sick. The lesson Oikawa had learned was never to arrange any kind of get together ever again– he already had a busy enough life without the unneeded stress. But the thought of teasing Kuroo, of seeing his shocked face when he realized what was happening, carried him through the weeks.

Because, really, his plan was perfect.

“Remind me what we’re doing again?” Sugawara whispered into his ear, dragging him from his thoughts.

“We’re going to abandon them,” Oikawa explained patiently in a hushed tone, holding back his glee. He emptied a bag of popcorn into a large plastic bowl, wincing as he burned the tips of his fingers on the bottom corners. He and Sugawara were on snack duty, resigned to the kitchen together. In the living room, Kuroo and Kenma were bickering over the movie they would watch. The others had made themselves sparse, hiding in the back corners of the room to avoid work. Oikawa had a suspicion that Iwaizumi and Daichi were comparing workout routines– he had sworn he had seen them flexing.

“Abandon...why?” Sugawara asked. It looked as if he was barely holding back laughter.

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “You’re asking the wrong question. Just imagine what it’s going to be like! Everybody slowly disappearing until it’s only Kuroo and Daichi in the room.”  
  
“I’m imagining it, that’s why I’m asking,” Sugawara protested. He opened the fridge to find a bottle of spicy sauce, dumping it liberally on a small bowl of snacks he had set aside for himself. “It just seems anticlimactic. What will they do then? What will _we_ do then?”

“Shh,” Oikawa said. He didn’t want to admit that he hadn’t really thought that far ahead. He had been too focused on arranging the actual movie date, and couldn’t trust his brain to think straight when it came to Sugawara. “It’ll work out, stop doubting it.”  
  
“Are you sure we can’t just have a normal movie day? I’m sure no one will mind.”  
  
Oikawa paused, considering. “But everyone already knows the plan,” he pointed out, “and I’m pretty sure Makki and Mattsun were thrilled with my idea.”

Sugawara closed his eyes and sighed. “Of course they were.”

“They can’t help who they are, Suga-chan.”

“It’s wishful thinking to pretend otherwise,” Sugawara agreed.

Their conversation was interrupted by Kuroo, who had crept into the room quietly, not speaking until just behind Oikawa’s shoulder. “What are we talking about?” he asked suddenly.

Oikawa jumped a few inches, spinning in place to swat Kuroo. “Stop doing that!” he demanded. “Are you trying to kill me? I shouldn’t have to worry about my safety in my own home, Tetsu-chan!”

“Have you finally decided on a movie?” Sugawara complained, snagging a piece of popcorn from the bowl and popping it into his mouth.

Kuroo grinned and slung an arm around Sugawara’s shoulders. “Of course I have. You’re going to love it, it’s a romantic comedy and the main character is a scientist. Sound familiar, Suga?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.  
  
How Kuroo had unknowingly picked a movie that reflected his _own_ life, Oikawa had no idea, but he was struggling too hard to keep a straight face than to pay attention to the other two.

Sugawara looked pained. “We’re all scientists here,” he said, gesturing to the otherwise empty kitchen.

“Yes, but this is a _biochemist,_ ,” Kuroo stressed, cackling.

“What a coincidence, so are _you._ .”  
  
“But you, too, Suga,” Kuroo sang.

“And I’m a physicist,” Oikawa finished, staring at them, puzzled. “Why does it matter?” Or rather, why was Kuroo acting so suspicious? He had an evil glint in his eye, as if he knew something no one else did. It made Oikawa uncomfortable.

“Are you guys coming out here?” Matsukawa’s deep voice called from the living room. “Or are you eating all the food?”

“Food? What food?” Kuroo crowed, but he grabbed the popcorn bowl and walked back into the living room. Oikawa and Sugawara grabbed the rest of the snacks and followed suit.

The living room, despite being larger than Sugawara’s, was still quite cramped with all nine of them packed inside. Kenma had claimed the only chair in the room, his legs curled to his chest and his hair hiding his face as he stared at his phone. It was the nearest seat to the wall, and he had set up a charger for his phone so it wouldn’t lose battery during the movie.

Asahi, Kuroo, and Daichi had claimed the ragged couch that they had dragged out to the center of the room. Kuroo had apparently plopped himself between the other two and was now making himself comfortable, ignoring Daichi’s pained objections. He had fallen prey to Kuroo’s bony butt, a fate Oikawa wished upon no man.

“I guess we take the floor,” Sugawara sighed, stepping over the sprawled bodies of Matsukawa and Hanamaki. They were set up behind the couch, a deck of cards fanned out between them, more invested in their game than anything else.

Oikawa tiptoed around Hanamaki’s swinging feet carefully before settling beside Sugawara, their backs leaning against the couch. The television was already flashing, trailers of other movies playing on the screen. “This’ll be fun,” he whispered into Sugawara’s ear, reaching out to grab a handful of chips from the bowl resting between them.

“We’ll see about that– Ah! I wouldn’t do that!” Sugawara rushed, eyes wide as he jolted forward. His hands leapt to stop Oikawa from eating.

“Sharing is caring, Suga-chan.” Oikawa tugged his hand free and rolled his eyes, popping the snacks in his mouth. Almost immediately, tears began to water his eyes, his cheeks flushing red as he desperately opened his mouth for fresh air. “Oh,” he whimpered, breathing through his mouth, “ah.”

Sugawara fell back helplessly, failing miserably at hiding his laughter. “It’s a bit spicy,” he managed in a controlled voice. Another glance at Oikawa’s face sent him doubling over, unable to hold back any longer.

“Oikawa, why are you making weird noises?” Iwaizumi had entered the room again, his hands still wet from the sink in the bathroom. He perched beside Daichi on the arm of the couch and flicked water droplets at Oikawa’s head. Daichi, now stuck between him and Kuroo, looked very cramped.

“He stole some chips from my bowl,” Sugawara explained, rubbing Oikawa’s back as he began to cough. “I thought he had seen me fix them to be spicy. I didn’t exactly hide it.”

Iwaizumi snorted and maneuvered himself into a more relaxed position, his arm laying behind Daichi’s head.  “You think he pays attention to anyone but himself?”

“His face is pretty blotchy,” Matsukawa observed– he and Hanamaki had scooted across the floor to watch the drama unfurl. “Can he breathe?”

Kuroo leaned forward and pulled Oikawa’s face back so he could assess the damage. “I think he’ll be okay,” he asserted with a pat on Oikawa’s cheek and a ruffle of his hair before lazily reclining again. “A spicy kick of flavor is a good shock to the system.”

“Not Suga spicy,” Asahi interjected vehemently, shaking his head. “It’s dangerous.”

“No, it’s not!” Sugawara protested, twisting to stare Asahi down, but he couldn’t hide the grin on his face. He knew _exactly_ how he liked his food.

“Hot,” Oikawa managed to wheeze out, speaking around his tongue. Nobody he turned to looked worried enough.

“Maybe get him some water?” Hanamaki suggested, but he made no move to get any himself.

“Makki, that makes it worse,” Matsukawa tittered in response. “Maybe milk?”

Kenma, who had been silently watching from his corner chair, saved the day. He appeared beside the couch with a half-empty can of coffee milk in hand, holding it out wordlessly to Sugawara as he stared at Oikawa, unimpressed.

“Thanks,” Sugawara managed, handing it gently to Oikawa.

After gulping down the rest of the drink, Oikawa came up for air. “My tongue,” he gasped, crumpling the middle of the can in his fist, “hates you, Suga. What...the actual...fuck.” He threw back the drink once more despites its now squashed state, trying to find a few last drops of relief for his inflamed tongue.

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow and nudged the back of Oikawa’s head with a socked foot. “Suga?” he repeated, almost incredulously. “What, no nickname for Sugawara now? Are you telling me I only had to burn your mouth to get rid of mine?”

Hanamaki shook his head in disbelief and crawled back behind the sofa to return to his game. “Weak,” he called to Oikawa. “That’s the one thing Mattsun and I didn’t try.” Matsukawa snickered and followed him.

The can of coffee milk was officially empty now and Oikawa let it drop to his lap, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. A sheen of sweat dotted his forehead. “I hate you all,” he gritted, “except for Kozume.” He stared Kenma in the eyes, trying to convey his heartfelt love. “He can stay.”

Unimpressed was the only word that could describe Kenma’s expression. He leaned over and plucked a chip out of Sugawara’s bowl, finishing it in only one quick bite. The expression on his face barely shifted, despite the yells of alarm from everyone around him– they obviously cared for his well-being far more than Oikawa’s. But their distress fell short as he shrugged casually and returned to his chair, a smug smile floating to his face. “A bit bland,” he decided, licking his lips and returning to his phone.

“I thought we were friends,” Oikawa whispered numbly, staring at him in blank shock. “We had a bonding moment. You gave me coffee milk.”

“That you finished,” Kenma countered without raising his gaze. “You owe me a new one now.”

Sugawara had officially dissolved into a fit of laughter and snorting, pausing only to gasp for air that he obviously did not have enough of. Oikawa would’ve been more worried if Sugawara hadn’t been laughing at _him._

“Poor baby. That’s one burn you can’t treat,” Hanamaki snickered.

“Can we please watch the movie?” Daichi groaned, shifting closer to Kuroo to avoid the impending weight of Iwaizumi, who was slowly but surely sinking closer and closer. “Let’s just start already.”  
  
“Your wish is my command.” Kuroo searched between the cushions until he pulled out the remote and pressed play. The cheesy soundtrack paused awkwardly from its loop and the menu screen disappeared.

It hadn’t been more than five minutes into the movie before Matsukawa noisily rose to his feet. “We have to go,” he announced, pulling Hanamaki to his feet.

Oikawa barely restrained himself from palming his forehead; he had _specifically_ ordered no one to leave until at least the thirty-minute mark. He didn’t know what he had suspected, honestly. They had always marched to the beat of their own drum.

“Where?” Daichi asked them quizzically, waving his hand to Kuroo, who paused the movie.

Hanamaki leaned over the back of the couch to steal popcorn, jamming a handful into his mouth. “Bathroom,” he deadpanned, mouth still full.

“...Together?” He looked to Iwaizumi as if to ask if that was typical. _They’re your friends, not mine,_ his eyes seemed to say. Iwaizumi in return gave a half-hearted shrug as if to say, _I don’t get paid enough to care._

“We never go alone,” Matsukawa replied seriously. He left quickly, pulling a giggling Hanamaki behind him by the collar. The sound of the front door opening and closing quickly followed, and Kuroo quickly pressed play on the remote, eager to begin the movie again.

Daichi stayed twisted in place, staring down the hallway that led to the door. “...That wasn’t the bathroom,” he finally ventured, looking once more to Iwaizumi. With his spare hand he attempted to grapple for the TV remote, but only ended up smacking Kuroo on the cheek. Luckily, Kuroo got the message and paused once more despite his alarmed, and now pained, expression.

“Don’t look at me, I’m not in charge of them,” Iwaizumi began, but he was struck by another concerned look from Daichi and sighed. “ _Fine_ , I’ll go after them.” He peeled himself off the couch and stomped down the hallway.

“Stay safe, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa bit his lip to hide his gleeful smile; despite the...surprises, his plan was set in motion. Three had left; just four more to go.

It looked as if Daichi wanted to say something more, but Kuroo, now recovered, put a finger to his lips and shushed him. “No talking,” he ordered, pointedly unpausing the movie once again.

“It’s working,” Oikawa sang softly into Sugawara’s ear, fighting to hide a smug smile.

Sugawara turned his head slightly and spoke from the corner of his mouth. He placed a warning hand on Oikawa’s thigh, his touch light yet still enough to set Oikawa’s heart beating fast. “You’re going to blow it,” he whispered back.

“No talking!” Kuroo demanded, pausing and kicking a socked foot into the back of Sugawara’s head. The two on the floor gagged from the smell and broke apart. “Jerks that don’t listen get kicked!”

“This isn’t a very good movie so far,” Asahi observed. “The jokes are all really cheesy.”

Kuroo side-eyed Asahi. “Bro. I’m flexible. Just because you’re sitting beside me doesn’t mean you’re safe. I can and I will kick you.”

“Don’t worry, the movie will get better,” Daichi said.

That caught Kuroo’s attention enough that he lowered the leg he had raised to display. He turned on Daichi in almost impish delight. “Don’t tell me you’ve seen this!” he exclaimed. “Aw, Daichi! Do you watch romantic comedies by yourself? That’s _adorable._ ”

“I don’t,” Daichi grouched, sinking in his seat. “It’s what I’m telling myself to get through this. It’s terrible!”

A phone beep from the corner interrupted Daichi’s scathing critique, and Kenma took the opportunity to scramble off his perch. “Shoyou’s calling,” he said quickly as he slipped down the hall. His phone was already to his ear. Oikawa had to give him props– so far he had the best excuse.

“Kenma, you’re coming back,” Kuroo called, exasperated. He had just been about to start the movie up again. “Come on, we’ve watched worse!” Kenma made no response, but it didn’t sound like the door had opened either. Kuroo closed his eyes and groaned. “Fine! Grab the other three while you’re at it.”

Oikawa’s eyes lit up. Now was a perfect opportunity as any. “We’ll fetch them,” he said smoothly, jumping to his feet and offering Sugawara his hand.

“Really, Oikawa?” Daichi asked, unimpressed. “Is there something the rest of us should know? The apocalypse, maybe? One restricted only to this room? Maybe we’d like to leave as well.” He fixed a glare to Asahi. “Don’t tell me you’re next.”

Asahi gulped, his eyes looking everywhere but Daichi. “Of course not,” he laughed weakly, taking the chance to stuff popcorn in his mouth so he wouldn’t have to answer anything else. Withstanding interrogations was not his strong suit.  
  
“Don’t be so dramatic, Daichi, we’ll be right back,” Sugawara hushed, rolling his eyes and taking Oikawa’s hand. “Honestly, it’s not like we’re going to miss much anyway.”

“We aren’t pausing anymore!” Daichi warned, ripping the remote from Kuroo’s hand and holding it threateningly at the television.

“Yessir!” Oikawa mock saluted him as he walked out of the living room backwards. Sugawara snorted and tugged his hand, guiding him down the hallway to the front door.

Kenma was leaning against the doorframe waiting for them, his eyes on the ground and a smile on his face as he listened to Hinata chatter on the other side of the line. He glanced up as he heard them, pressing himself to the wall so they could pass. “I’m hiding in your room,” he directed to Oikawa, more a statement than a question.

“What?” Oikawa asked distractedly, glancing at Kenma. It was hard to focus. Sugawara had cracked open the door and was tugging his hand, trying to pull him through.

“You,” Kenma said as he pulled the phone away from his face, “owe me.”

“Uh, yes?” Oikawa had sworn he owed Kenma coffee milk, but he wasn’t going to question it either.

Kenma looked satisfied with the answer. “Good.” He pulled the phone back to his face and jiggled the doorknob to Oikawa’s room, slipping inside without a backwards glance.

“Oikawa,” Sugawara hissed from the outside hallway, “let’s go. Quickly, before Asahi ropes us into staying.”

“Why would he?” Oikawa whispered back, finally giving in to the insistent tug. The door closed with a quiet click behind him.

“He doesn’t like being the third wheel,” Sugawara said, returning to a normal voice as he pulled Oikawa to the stairs, “and he sucks at excuses so he can never escape.”

“Not like _we_ had much of one.”

“True! But Asahi is probably lost now that Hanamaki used the bathroom excuse. And that Daichi called him out like that,” he added thoughtfully, frowning.

“Poor baby,” Oikawa tittered, snorting delicately behind his free hand.

“He’s a big teddy bear,” Sugawara agreed. He opened the door to the stairwell, pausing momentarily to allow his eyes to adjust to the dark lighting.

Oikawa took the opportunity to surge ahead of him, a daredevil smile lighting up his face. “I’ll race you,” he challenged, posing on the top step.

“We’re attached,” Sugawara replied dryly as he raised their clasped hands, but neither made a move to separate. It was comfortable, natural.

“Is that going to be your excuse when I beat you?” Oikawa smirked.

Sugawara snorted, a competitive glint already in his gaze. “I’m just giving you the chance to back out before you lose,” he drawled lazily, inching forward.

“I’ve never lost anything in my life–” Oikawa began to brag, at the same moment his arm was nearly ripped from its socket. Sugawara surged forward, skipping down the steps double-time. Oikawa tripped forward down the first few steps before he managed to find his footing, but he was already at a disadvantage, three steps behind. Their clasped hands had separated but hadn’t yet broken, their fingers linked.

“Slow!” Sugawara crowed, pausing at the landing to let Oikawa pull beside him.

“Cheater!” Oikawa tossed back with an outraged laugh, using his free hand to aim a shove at Sugawara’s head in a friendly manner.

Sugawara ducked beneath the blow, giggling. “On three, then?”

“Ha! Not likely!” Oikawa scoffed, beginning to skip down the steps. He took it slower though, letting Sugawara keep pace. The sounds of their shoes pounding down the cement steps resounded throughout the stairwell, not quite loud enough to drown out their competitive shouts.

It took less than a minute to reach the bottom floor and when they burst outside, Oikawa felt like his face would split open, he was grinning so big.

“Damn,” Sugawara panted, lacing his hands behind his head and blowing out a puff of air, “you won.”

“Don’t coddle me,” Oikawa shook his head and swept his bangs off his forehead. “That was a total tie.”

Sugawara raised an eyebrow. “Who’s coddling who now? I was a full step behind you.”

Oikawa’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he raised a finger to Sugawara as he dug it out. “We’ll continue this conversation later,” he stated, answering the call. “Hello?” A pause, then he snickered and turned it on speaker phone. “It’s Matsukawa,” he explained simply.

“Yo, I’m guessing you escaped,” came Matsukawa’s deep voice. The sound of distant splashing could be heard in the background, as well as a mix of voices. “Get your asses over by the docks before we’re found out, yeah? That’s where we are right now. Iwaizumi’s about to help some old guy untie his boat from the pier, and I think Hanamaki’s going to try to dump him in the river.” He hung up, leaving them staring at each other, still processing.

Sugawara looked slightly horrified. “Dump the old guy or Iwaizumi?”

“I was unclear on that, too, but I think he meant Iwaizumi,” Oikawa considered.

“That still can’t be safe,” Sugawara said slowly. “How strong is the current?”

“Suga-chan. With my friends, it’s never safe. Give them some credit, though; they’re still alive.”

Another pause. “...So, we’re going to the river?”

“Well, I can’t just let them _kill_ Iwaizumi. What the hell would I tell his family? Let’s go. If we power-walk, we can make it to the bridge in four minutes.”

Sugawara shook his head in disbelief, hurrying down the walkway beside Oikawa, matching his strides. “You know,” he started, “I’m really glad we met, but I’ve gotta say...some crazy shit happens around you.”

Looking both ways, they ran across the road without a crosswalk, dodging between parked cars that lined the edges of the street. The bridge was in sight now, the traffic along the road minimal despite it being late afternoon. The sun was slowly sinking behind the city buildings at the horizon, setting the sky above into a painter’s canvas of oranges and pinks that shimmered atop the surface of the river beside them.

It didn’t take much more time to cross onto the bridge. They were walking along the sidewalk overlooking the docks when Sugawara paused, pulling Oikawa’s sleeve and pointing down. “Iwaizumi looks fine,” he said dryly, “if a bit wet.”

Oikawa leaned over the bridge’s side-railing to look closer. “Looks like he got fished out,” he commented, pointing out the gear scattered across the surface of a bobbing boat’s deck. “Think they’re getting chewed out?”

“No doubt. Want to stay up here where it’s safe?”  
  
“No doubt,” Oikawa repeated, raising his arm above his head to wave down to his friends. He couldn’t hear what was going on, but that was okay. The breeze was nice, and it was peaceful to stand alone with Sugawara watching the gentle waves lap at the shoreline below. He didn’t really feel nervous, not like he once had. There was some strength to be found, a state of calm he absorbed from the surrounding environment. Ever since he had come to Tokyo, he had never once taken the time to stand still and just...watch.

He wondered if it was selfish to want to include Sugawara in that, to watch the dying sunlight play across his face and the breeze tug at his hair.

The silence pressed on and Oikawa gulped. He had to say something, before he lost his nerve. Stubborn or not, he was tired of denying himself the right to let his feelings run free. He was usually shameless when it came to flirting and relationships, could read their personalities well enough to know exactly how to please them, what to say. But with Sugawara, he just wanted to sit back and listen to his voice forever. With Sugawara, he was tongue-tied and tripping over his own feet. It threw him off; he wasn’t used to it, didn’t know what to do. The only thing he _did_ know was that he had no earthly idea how Sugawara felt about _him_.

And it scared him.

It was time to do something other than stumble blindly in the dark, avoiding his feelings. Oikawa pushed himself off of the railing and turned to face him, only to find that Sugawara was closer than he had expected.

“Suga?” he asked nervously, licking his lips. Suddenly his mouth was as dry as sandpaper.

Sugawara looked up, staring him in the eyes for a split moment before glancing to the ground. “Can I say something?” he blurted, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Oikawa’s heart went into hyperdrive; he didn’t know what Sugawara was going to say, didn’t know if he _wanted_ to know.  “You first,” he said. His voice was steady for once, such a sharp contrast to the panic setting in his mind.

Sugawara turned away and leaned over the railing, hiding his face in his hands as he rubbed his eyes with his fingers. “I...ah, fuck. I told Kuroo,” he said lamely, wincing. “He, uh, he knew about your prank.”

“What?” Oikawa blinked and tried to recover from his surprise, berating himself silently. What had he been expecting? Sugawara was trying to have a conversation but all Oikawa could think of was how easy it would be to close the small distance between them.

“I’m sorry,” Sugawara apologized meekly, carding his fingers through his hair and groaning. “It just slipped out when we were talking about you.”

Oikawa paused, thoughts screeching to a halt. “...me?” he questioned, trying his best to keep his voice casual. He slowly settled beside Sugawara, dipping his head to look him in the eyes.

Sugawara’s gaze darted away. It was hard to tell if his cheeks had flushed pink or if it was just the fading sunlight casting a glow. “I can’t do this,” he moaned miserably, sliding into a crouch, his hands clinging onto the bar above as if it was the only thing keeping him on his feet.

“Suga?” Oikawa asked, alarmed. He threw a glance over his shoulder, but they were alone in this quiet instance, no cars or people nearby, the bridge as empty as if it had been reserved.

A murmur came from Sugawara’s hunched form, and Oikawa ducked to his level, copying his stance. The rail was cold against his hands, but the sensation was nothing but an afterthought, quickly dismissed. He tilted his head to hear better, holding his breath, overly conscious of the fact that they were mere inches apart.

“You’re such an _idiot,_ ” came the choked whisper again. Sugawara faced Oikawa, his face burning now a bright red. He was glaring and chewed on his inner lip, eyes bright.

It was a good thing Oikawa had been holding onto something, because he didn’t think he could’ve stayed on his feet otherwise. He opened his mouth to speak, not sure of the words about to spill, but Sugawara cut him off.

“Don’t talk, please. You said I could go first.”

Oikawa licked his lips nervously. “Didn’t realize it was still your turn.”

“You’re making this so much harder than it should be,” Sugawara said fiercely, effectively shushing him. “Look, I told Kuroo because– he was helping me. Or _supposed_ to be,” he corrected, scowling. “He didn’t do much. I figured, since I’ve been helping him with Daichi, he could...help me.”

Stubborn, Oikawa was, but stupid he was not. His throat constricted and his chest felt like it was about to burst, but for some reason he was willing to accept ten times the pain if his budding suspicions were answered. But he didn’t want to rush to conclusions, so he kept his mouth sealed shut, his eyes drinking in every detail about Sugawara greedily.

Sugawara bit his lower lip and closed his eyes, his breath hitching before he opened them once more and shifted his left hand to rest atop Oikawa’s right. Their gazes locked and this time neither looked away, despite the embarrassment burning their cheeks.

“Is this okay?” Sugawara asked, voice shaking. Nervous. Nervous about _him._

Oikawa swallowed back the lump in his throat and removed their linked hands from the rail above to hold in the space between them, rotating his wrist until their fingers were interlocked. It was more intimate than anything previous, and despite how strange it must’ve looked from an onlookers point of view, Oikawa didn’t care. Nothing could take this moment away from him.

“Yes,” he confessed, beaming brightly. “You read my mind, Suga-chan.”

“Koushi,” Sugawara corrected softly, gently squeezing his hand and offering a tentative, tender smile. “Call me Koushi.”

“...Kou-chan?” Oikawa whispered. He wasn’t able to wipe the impish grin off his face, wasn’t able to hold back his teasing words. His heart felt so light that it could fly out of his chest.  
  
Sugawara burst out laughing, the fragile quiet around them shattering like twinkling glass. He pulled himself up, tugging Oikawa to his feet as well. “You’re unbearable, you know?”

“But you love me,” Oikawa replied smugly as they knocked shoulders, their clasped hands swinging between them. Linking them together.

“Yes.” Sugawara sighed contently. “I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Asahi ended up being the only one who actually enjoyed the movie. A solid 7/10, although predictable. Tissues were needed. Was called a sap, but would watch again, in private. Extremely awkward to watch as a third wheel on a prank date. He’s never listening to Oikawa or Suga again.


End file.
